Amazon Sucks

So, here we go again, first world blues. I’m just a jaded American who is too easily irritated and prone to whining.

Amazon and the USPS are at my issue’s center. Really, it’s more than that. I have a cat getting on in age. He’s been puking often. Give him hairball stuff. These are hard little pellets. He likes them. They help some. But still, a puke every other day. He’s otherwise a happy, healthy, good-looking boy.

Reading online, others suggest a raised tilted food bowl will help alleviate the issue. Well, why not? I will try that.

I searched locally. Nada. Widened the local search. Nada. Reluctantly turned to the net. Ended up on Amazon. I really try to avoid ordering from Amazon. Amazon is wealthy. Its founder, Bezos is super-wealthy, as wealthy as a small nation. Doesn’t pay much in taxes, he or his corporation. That sort of matter irritates me. Plus, I hear his employees aren’t overly happy working for him.

So, avoid them when I can. But I went with the bowl on Amazon because, reviews, and convenience. Well, so much for convenience.

It shipped right out. Great. Was due for delivery yesterday. USPS. Okay. Was out for delivery at 6:10 AM. Either my wife and I were home all day. Never a time when both of us were out.

Checked the front porch throughout the day. Nada. Talked to Alexa about it. Chirpy as always, she assured me it was out for delivery. Went up and checked the mailbox at 6:30 PM. Nada. Checked online. Out for delivery. Okay.

First thing this morning, I asked Alexa about the delivery. “Your package was delivered to your selected pick up point.”

What the hell does that mean? I checked the front porch. Nada. Dressed, I prepared to walk up to our mailbox. On a whim, though, I checked online.

They said it was waiting for pick up. The USPS claimed that they tried delivering it at 4:02 PM. Now it happens that I know that I was at home at 4 PM. I was at that moment reading a book, “Law of Innocence” by Michael Connolly. I was doing that in the dining room, about fourteen feet from the front door. Facing the kitchen window. Which looks out at the front porch. I know that time because I was thinking that I had to make dinner but I wanted to walk a few miles and what time would I do these things? If someone walked onto the front porch, I would have seen them. Had they knocked, I would have heard them. If they rang the bell, you get it.

I was annoyed. No, pissed. Mostly because the USPS lied to me. Then they shifted the burden of delivery to me. I can either walk or drive a few miles to get the package they’d been hired to deliver.

Yes, I know. First world blues, right?

I decided to contact Amazon ‘customer service’ about. Can’t really call it customer service. It’s a bot that sent me around in circles without satisfaction. The bot said it was delivered. I replied, “I didn’t get it.”

“Did you look around the house?” the bot inquired.

No, I’m an idiot and this is the first time that I’ve ever had something delivered, I snapped back, but that answer wasn’t available to enter. You can only enter pre-canned responses. It makes it easier on Amazon. I selected, “Yes, I didn’t find it.”

“Well,” the bot replied, “the status was updated too early. It’ll get there.”

That was it.

I searched for ways to contact Amazon. They provided me a number to call USPS. I imagined how that call would go.

Yes, I know the answer to all of this. “You get what you pay for.”

I finally succumbed to talking to Amazon. Didn’t want to. Like most Americans, I prefer written correspondence. But I hit the button. Amazon called. I talked them through it. They contacted the USPS and brought them up on the call. “It was an early scan,” the USPS rep said.

Yeah, sure.

“It’ll be delivered tomorrow.”

Terrific.

They thanked me for my patience.

I hung up.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

The door to the sky opens at 5:35 AM. The sun’s first impact shades the night gray. Rosy yellows spread as the door grows further ajar. Tuesday, June 8, 2021, has begun its day in Ashland, Oregon. As always, jays acknowledge the event first. Crows add to the dawn conversation after a few minutes.

Air that seems related to fall is outside. Rain fell last night, dropping temperatures into the lower forty F. Thick, broken clouds mottle the blue sky. Temperatures are a far descent from normal, with highs just barely edging over sixty. So it’ll be, a spring fall day, until the door closes on the valley sun at 8:45 PM.

Today’s music of the walking kind. Hopefully dressed for summer, shorts and a tee, with a light fleece, an edgy wind knifes my bare legs, sending chills over my body as I do my thing yesterday. After just three quarters of a mile, smelling rain in the air, I call it and make the turn to home. Thinking of home brings a Delaney & Bonnie song out of mental retirement and into active thinking. Called “Coming Home” The song, made ‘with friends’, was released in the late sixties. It was one of my recurring songs as I traveled during twenty years in the military and then later in marketing for several years. Hope you enjoy it.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get that vax. Cheers

Coins for A Journey Dream

The dream began in a huge junkyard. Discarded household goods abound. My cats, Boo (a house panther) and Papi (aka Meep, Youngblood, and The Ginger Blade) were with me. Running around, they kept fighting, diverting my attention from other events as I break up their fights, scold them, and stop them from stalking one another. They keep at it, first Boo stalking Papi, then it’s the reverse, noisy and intrusive.

Then I’m walking about a densely populated office. Busy, busy, busy, the place is low-ceilinged and enormous. I can’t see either end. I’m lamenting that a major project has been canceled, lambasting management over that, wondering what I was going to do with myself. People agree with me. We’re all disappointed. It’s wrong. It should not have been canceled. A big boss came along and began commiserating. His arm over my shoulder, we walk around, him looking over about to ensure others couldn’t overheard, reassuring me, the project isn’t over, he likes my work and is keeping me on his team, and he has work for me to do. “Don’t worry, good news is coming soon,” he tells me. “Stay patient.” Okay, that buoys my energy. He’s smiling the whole time and claps me on the back as we separated.

Back to walking about on my own, now I wonder, where are my cats? I haven’t seen them for a while. Are they okay? Strangers come up and give me coins. “Found these and thought I’d give them to you, Michael,” a man said, presenting me with a little bag of coins. I find all shiny, new silver inside. New silver dollars, minted this year, quarters, and an oversized silver coin. Shinier than the rest, it just says “The United States of America” on one side and the year, 2021. A mountain range with a sunset (or sunrise) is on the other. It’s larger than a silver dollar, no denomination on it. I guess it’s a commemorative coin. I discover that I already had a red bag of coins. These are added to my collection, where I find that I had another new silver dollar and a large quantity of new quarters.

Pleased and excited, I now become embarrassed as people continue coming up, giving me coins, which are all new, and usually quarters, although some pennies are mixed up in it. “I don’t need all this,” I protest. Others assure me, “Yes, you do, take them with you on your journey.”

That I’m going on a journey is news to me. Others passing by give me throwaway details, “It’s the trip you’ve been waiting for,” “It’s going to be a long road,” “You’ll need those coins to get what you need,” “You’ll need them for where you’re going.” I respond, “Where am I going?” No one answers this question.

Then, excited and happy, outside now in a small and busy city square, I’m walking around, beginning my journey. Laughing to myself, I ask myself, “Are you really going? Are you going to do it?” Others call out greetings and wave to me. It’s a festive air. As a wind blows, I look up at blue sky and white clouds.

Dream ends.

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