WAHOOTWO – AUGUST 12, 2015

WAHOOTWO – AUGUST 12, 2015

 

Jobless Crisis – American Held Hostage: Day 80

 

You know what I miss about applying for jobs online?   The rejection.   Yeah.  I’m at the point where I would even enjoy a rejection.

 

I went to a Beach Boys/Herman’s Hermits concert at the local minor league baseball park Tuesday night.  I enjoyed it more than I expected.   Very good, fun show.   Tickets were $35.   When I went to buy the tickets online, I noticed an additional $5.50 was tacked on as an “online processing fee.”    Since I was getting four tickets, this would hike up the price an additional $22.   I checked my schedule and saw that I had no plans all week, so I drove to the stadium to buy the tickets at the box office.  This would save me the “online processing fee.”   I bought 4 of the best available.   It came to $162.   I didn’t realize I was charged the “online processing fee” until I got home.  In between sending out aimless job applications, I tapped out an angry e-mail to the Boulder/Provident Bank Stadium.   Yeah, another sign of a retiree is sending out angry e-mails.   I wanted to know why I was charged an “online processing fee”.   In the return e-mail, I was told I wasn’t charged an “online processing fee” but a “Ticket Service Charge.”   Some more “blah blah blah” was included.   I wrote back wondering if those buying tickets online are also charged the “Ticket Service Charge” in addition to the “online processing fee.”   Answer: No, they aren’t.

Stop the nonsense.  Is it an “Online Processing Fee” or is it a “Ticket Service Charge”?    We all know it’s a game.  Why not be an adult and just say you’re charging $40.50 a ticket. 

Ahh, what’s in a name? 

And if that wasn’t bad enough . . .  no Al Jardine!

 

“Damn, and I had Geno Smith on my fantasy team” – Things Nobody Says

 

I sometimes feel like Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”.    My wife Denise notices the hours I search the job sites on the computer.  And if she looked, she would find that all I’ve accomplished is pages and pages of “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

 

Breaking News: “Fantastic Four” changing its name to “Four”.

 

Lots of people were sharing their Jon Stewart story since he retired.  Here’s mine.   The Late Show was playing The Daily Show in a softball game, 1999/2000-ish, De Witt Clinton Park at the end of 53rd Street.   Being my non-assertive self, I let those who need control to decide what position I should play.  For some reason, they deemed I was suitable for right field.   Sigh.  Right field is usually reserved for the kid whose talent isn’t in sports.  I remember thinking, “Hey, look at that, the person who needs control thinks he’s a shortstop.”   So I’m playing right field and Jon Stewart comes up for the Daily Show.   And he’s a lefty!   Right-swinging hitters tend to hit to left field; the more rare left-swinging hitters tend to hit to right field.  With the lefty Jon Stewart at the plate, right field was now in play.  From his warm-up swings I could sense he knew how to handle a bat.  I could tell he’s played this game before.  I take a few steps back and over towards the right field foul line, knowing lefties like to pull.    The pitch . . . and Jon smacks the ball deep deep deep over my head.  I turn and run.  When I played softball back in my day, chasing down a fly ball was a complete joy.  I would eye the ball in the sky gliding softly and quietly through the air as if it were waiting for me to arrive before its descent.   But not tonight.  I hadn’t played the game in years.  The ball in the sky was violently jumping all over the place.  I couldn’t focus on its path.  My run was unsteady, and so was the ball.   I knew I was getting close to the fence.  The ball, the fence, and I were converging at the same time.  I knew there was no way I was going to be able to catch this ball.   I took my best guess and jumped as the ball came down.  The ball found my mitt as I found the fence.  I crashed to the ground and the dust came up.  I caught it, no one more shocked than me.  A taxi driver beeps and gives an excited Spanish shout.   It was the third out of the inning.   As I run in from right field, Jon Stewart redirects his run of the bases and veers out to right field.   He mocks anger and puts me in a headlock.   We both wanted to show off to the young kids we were with.   It was the last “great catch” I ever made. 

And that’s my Jon Stewart story.

And that’s what you call an Ego Tale.  About a quarter of the way through I realized no one would be interested but I continued anyway just for me.  Because I wanted to read it.

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8 comments

  1. Dave · August 12, 2015

    “no one would be interested but I continued anyway just for me.” The story of every blog, Mike …

    Like

  2. pfleet · August 12, 2015

    *I* was interested in your Jon Stewart story, MikeMack. It’s as good or better than Hill’s & Sikula’s. 😉

    Like

  3. Helen Read · August 12, 2015

    I enjoyed the Jon Stewart story too. (And I am speaking as someone who has never ever been able to catch a fly ball on the run. They used to make me play catcher.)

    Like

  4. Jim Seidel · August 13, 2015

    Did Hermans Hermits do all 4 of there hits?

    Like

  5. surly joe · August 13, 2015

    You know you have gone “Al Bundy” when your kids leave the room when you start the story of your athletic greatness. Have I ever mentioned that in 1968 I blocked a spike from a future US Olympic volleyball coach?

    Like

    • mikemcintee · August 13, 2015

      No, you haven’. . . . uh, I mean YES. You told me that story already. You don’t have to again.

      Like

  6. crenkat · August 13, 2015

    I’ve never played a sport and only rarely gone to a baseball game, but I LOVED your story! The drama, the anticipation, the Last Great Catch!! Wonderfully exhilarating to read! Thank you. 🙂

    Like

  7. Shane · August 19, 2015

    I was kinda hoping that part way through the amazing catch story, the narration would be interrupted to include superfluous crowd reaction descriptions.

    Like

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