Saturday night, we had someone stop by to test our water.

They’d come to the door earlier in the week and spoken to Jill.  It was supposed to be a quick, friendly test of your water softener by a local company.  It turned out to be two hours of hell, instead.

The guy was initially 15 minutes late.  We had just ordered pizza to pick up when the doorbell rang.  I’d been seconds away from suggesting we just leave, seeing as how he hadn’t come on time.  I wish we had.

The guy had difficulty walking.  I wish it were the only difficulty he had.  As soon as he came inside, he stood there and simply stared at us.  He was as awkward as anyone could be.  It seemed like he was waiting for us to say something.  It seemed like he was waiting like that the whole night.

He tested our kitchen water.  It was hard.  He tested our bathroom water, and it was soft.  He looked at the water softener downstairs, calling his boss to help identify it.  We talked about the pipes, and discovered that the water to the kitchen wasn’t on the soft water anyway.  He was critical of the line running to the refrigerator upstairs, until I mentioned that I’d been the one to install it (move it, really).

He ran other tests on our water, awkwardly.  He’d take a sample, only to dump it and refill the vial.  Over and over again.  He stammered and stuttered the whole way.  He forgot his line of thought a few times, and often started factual statements with, “I think…"  He used it like others would say um when they’re nervous.  However, his hand never once shook, and his eyes never darted around nervously (though he constantly jerked around as he stammered).

At some point, he started flipping through a book with information about water softeners.  At this point, I was so frustrated just listening to him talk that I was ready to punch the wall.

He pulled out a photocopy with estimates of monthly costs for soap, water, and whatever else.  He flipped over the page to show how their $4000 system was a value as it is, even though they were going to reduce the cost to help close the deal.

I had been done some time already.  It’d been an hour.  The pizza was a lost cause at this point.  I told him we’d need to budget things out before making a decision.  It could be six months before we made a chance, I informed him.

He pulled out a flyer about soap that the company buys, and started talking about how they’d give us $3500 worth of soap for buying a water softener.  I didn’t budge on my resolution that we needed to wait.  I even told him that he could work out any kind of deal and I wasn’t going to agree to anything without thinking about it.  Jill even told him that she’d have an adverse reaction to the soap as part of our increasing desire to remove this guy from our home.  So he told us that they would credit us for their cost on the soap, which was all of $150.  They apparently buy $3500 worth of soap for $150.  Even with another discount, I wasn’t buying anything.  So the guy calls the boss.

The boss wants to talk to me.  I go back and forth a bit, only to have the boss tell me he had received four free systems as part of a promotion from GE, and would sell it to me for cheap.  He had me tell the guy in my house to calculate numbers he seemed to pull out of the air.  Eventually, we had $2395 on the calculator.  The boss wanted to run some numbers and call me back before offering that low, low price.

As I was on the phone, the guy who came over had packed up his things.

The boss called back and told me he’d offer it to me for $2295.  A $4000 softener system with a reverse osmosis system and a credit for nearly free soap.  I reiterated that I needed to look at my budget.  He pushed some more.  I was obviously upset at this point, but kept my composure.  I told the guy I’d have to look at my budget and get back to him.  I finally got him to agree to let me go once I gave him the number to a temporary phone I used about a year ago (which I still have access to).  The weird stammerer left.  Jill and I got in the car and got the hell out of the house.

I called the pizza a total catastrophe and didn’t even bother to pick it up.  We went to California Pizza Kitchen and had a late dinner.  I had a very strong sangria, which suited the evening perfectly, and we proceeded to dissect and discuss the two hours of hell we had just endured.

I’m convinced the stammering and stuttering was an act to make the guy seem harmless.  I’d noticed that he was careful to keep his water samples pure until he wasn’t getting the results he needed, at which time he started using his finger to plug the end of the beakers and test tubes, contaminating the samples.  He was quick to ignore the fact that my kitchen water wasn’t softened like the rest of the house, yet his samples all showed how he could improve its quality by buying a new softener system.  His quality samples matched what we have in our bathrooms.  He pulled all the classic sales tricks, such as stepping out of bounds in giving us discounts as well as deferring to his manager when we wouldn’t budge.  In all, the two hours were intended to wear us down, get us to say yes to move on with life, and screw us over.

And then…

The next day, I’m at a work meeting, and I mention the incident to a few coworkers.  Turns out, one of them had the exact same experience, almost down to every detail, from the same exact company.  They even got the same spiel and the same final price.

I’m willing to give someone a fair shot at some things.  Ultimately, I’m the one who decides to spend money, so I hold all the cards.  If I don’t like something, I walk away.  It’s harder when someone comes into your house with honorable words.  You want to be cordial, but you also want the bugger out of your life.

A search on the web lists thousands of cases indicating the “water softness test” is a traditional scam designed solely to place a salesperson in your home.  If the stammerer has a problem, he makes a terrible salesperson.  If he’s simply pretending to have a problem, he’s good at faking a speech impediment, but still a lousy salesperson.  Even still, I can’t help but think of all the older people who get scammed into believing he’s worth spending any money on.

They wasted two hours of my life.  I’ll never retrieve those two hours.

I also felt dirty from the whole thing.  I should take a shower.  With my adequately softened water, of course.

.

.

 

It’s amazing how a litte rain causes people to drive like complete idiots.

Sure, I know it doesn’t rain all that much in Utah.  But the way people drive during a light to gentle rain storm, you’d think they were driving through a hurricane.  I’ve driven in all kinds of rain, including a hurricane.  In fact, people I’ve seen on the road durring a hurricane still drive much better than your common Utahn.

Last night there was a gentle rain.  Heavy enough that you’d get a little wet walking from the car to a store, but not so heavy that you need to run to the door.

Just driving around town, I had at least four people drive erratically around me.  For some reason, they loved merging into my lane right behind me - close enough where I can’t see their headlights - even though they had no obvious reason to merge into my lane.

In one instance, I had an Alpine School District bus pull into State street from the other side of the road, merge over three lanes within seconds.  I was in the third lane as the bus pulled into it, almost hitting our car.  I merged into the center lane to get around the bus, who almost immediately afterwards got in my lane right behind me, then merged over two lanes suddenly to make a left turn light at one of the big intersections.  As you might guess, the bus missed the green light, but that didn’t stop the bus driver (or the car behind it) from turning left through a red light, almost hitting oncoming traffic (we use an alternating light pattern here - one side of the road goes straight and turns left, then the left turn goes red to allow oncomming traffic to go, then the original lane turns red so the oncomming left turn gets the green).

Does the rain fog their brains in some way?  Or does it take bad driving skills and amplify them tenfold?

It’s enough to make me want to stay home when it rains.

.

.

 

This is a test of the MP3 player function on this blog.

Jill, I love you.

So I’ve got a nudist family living behind me.  I seemed to miss that on the brochure when I was looking at the house last year.

Well, so far, I’ve only seen the father and the nearly adult son traipsing around naked in their backyard.  And it’s not like they’re sunning, cleaning, doing yardwork, or playing rugby naked in their back yard, they’re simply walking from the back door to their hot tub.  But still, naked is naked.  I’m just confused by the whole thing.

First, I’ve known some people with nudist inclinations.  Usually, it’s all or nothing (quite literally).  If you’re going to be naked, usually the whole family is naked.  The younger boys have all been spotted at one time or another as they make their way from the house to the tub, but the mother has not.  You’d think that if the boys and father are all comfortable enough being nude in front of their mom that their mom would be a nudist, too.  Maybe she is, and our purchase of the home behind them ruined the six-month “naked as a jaybird” free-for-all they must have enjoyed when the previous owner moved out.

All I know is, if I’m going to have to be witness to their nudistic ways, it only seems fair that we have a gender-neutral show.  “Bare” with me, as I’m trying not to sound like a lecherous old man (too much).

In all seriousness, the biggest issue I’ve got with them is the fact that my ten-year-old daughter could see it.  The views that have been witnessed (by my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law, myself and my wife) have been brief (or lack of briefs).  Still, I can see everything but your feet from my kitchen window, and the fence between us is almost seven feet tall.  If my daughter catches a glimpse of teenage boy parts, I think I’m going to have to say something.  Which would be an interesting conversation with the new neighbor.

Maybe I just need more trees in my yard.

And speaking of planting trees, we’ve taken a few steps to spruce up the place a bit.

There’s a shed in the back yard, which had a dog fence and built-in dog house.  They referred to it as the “dog run."  From the look of the posts and holes they called a dog house, I think the dogs referred to it as “chew toy.”

This picture shows the patio and cover, as well as the chainlink fence

This photo shows the side of the shed with the “dog house” built into it

The patio is almost perfectly arranged for the hot tub, which is currently sitting on it’s edge in the carport.  The hole in the middle of the patio, which makes little sense, will come in handy to hide the wiring.

Jill and I have already removed the fence and stashed it on the side of the shed.  The fence is rather tall and definitely not cheap.

Later, I plan on removing the roof over the dog house and repositioning it so an average person can walk under it.  Then I’ll plug up the two holes.  I’ve been thinking about what to do after that, but I’m not sure on it yet.  I’m thinking of cleaning up the shed, organizing it better, and then cutting a couple doors in the side to set up a small bar top where I can open the doors when guests are over.  Add a few bar stools and you’ve got a cool little hangout next to the hot tub.

As for the hot tub, I’m thinking of putting a semi-open structure over it, maybe a pergola.  There will be privacy lattice on the side and back to keep my nudist neighbors from spying (and wondering why we wear clothes in our hot tub), and so the older couple to the side of us don’t get a glimpse of the going-ons at the tub.

I’m also going to install brackets on each of the 8x8 posts in the fence to hang lanterns.  They’ll probably be candle-lit, but I thought it would look awesome if I could modify some low-voltage lighting to light up the entire backyard without running spot lights into the neighbor’s windows.

Inside, just this weekend Jill and I redid our closet with wire shelving, just like we did a couple years ago at the old house.  This time, we changed the shelving a little to maximize size.  Unfortunately, we bought a house with a smaller closet.  It was a trade-off, of sorts, for having our own bathroom.  Hopefully, some new closet hardware, in addition to the new bedroom furniture, will make things better.

Slated for change this week is the bathroom cabinet in our master bathroom.  The old one will end up in the hallway bathroom, while the new one gets hung in the master bath.  It’ll match the cabinets and tile color better than the icky white that’s in there now.

There are a few ideas for improvements being bounced around right now.  I can’t wait to get things started!

Maybe my naked neighbors will come over and lend me a hand.

.

.

 

 

A year ago today, I was getting ready for a wedding.

Family members were in town.  Clothes were being prepared.  Pictures were being moved.  I was working to finalize the music that would be played at the procession as well as the reception.  I was nervous and excited.  I missed Jill.

Showing up is a bit of a blur.  There were so many details I had to keep in mind.  I wasn’t sure who had the rings or how they were going to attach to the pillow my son was to carry down the aisle.  I didn’t know where my photographer was.  I didn’t recognize half the faces already seated.

The whole first part seemed like how you pay attention to a movie when you’re drowsy and falling asleep: some parts are vivid, while others seem to slide by you unknown.

People were seated and music started.

And there she was.

Beautiful.  Elegant.  Nervous.  Ready.

And that moment started not only a new phase in the ceremony, but a new start in my life.

A lot has happened in the past year.  And I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have with me every step of the way.

Thank you for being my wife, Jill.  I love you.

And thanks to my parents, my brother, my best friend Christy, my cousin, my long-time friend (and cousin-in-law), my mother and father in law, my new sisters and brother, my coworker Miguel, and all the friends and family who supported us.