1. On our sibling outing, Carol told Christy and me that she knew of people around town who had been vaccinated for Covid at Kellogg's Panhandle Health District office in the last week. I read other rumors on Facebook about local vaccines. So, I checked it out this morning by rocketing over to the Panhandle Health District office. I had no expectations. I simply wanted to find out whatever I could. I arrived. The parking lot was empty. On the front door of the building housing the district office was a sign announcing the office was open, but the lobby was closed. I went to the door leading into the lobby and an employee leapt to her feet, left her desk, unlocked the door, and, when I asked her about vaccines, she told me they had run out and didn't know when the next shipment would arrive.
No problem. I've been living with the mild expectation, from reading distribution plans, that my time for a shot would come in April. I'm fine with that, but will be happy if I happen to be inoculated earlier. I enjoyed how helpful the woman was who answered my questions, thanked her very much, vaulted back into the Sube, and blasted home again.
2. Back home, I tackled my second big question of the day: why have I lost internet service in the house?
Fortunately, Christy's signal from next door is strong enough that I can tap into her service (and she says that's fine with her).
So, I fired up the Ziply Fiber website, clicked the "chat" function, and almost instantly Amber came online. We got a couple preliminary questions taken care of and soon she asked me if my router was plugged directly into a wall outlet. No it isn't. It's plugged into an extension cord that's plugged into a power strip.
She wondered if I could plug it into an outlet directly. It took a very little rearranging of the Vizio room, but in just a few minutes I moved the router to the south side of the room, near an outlet, and plugged it in. Directly.
Problem solved. The router evidently hadn't been getting enough juice the way I'd had it plugged in.
I thanked Amber very much for her help and, after a little breakfast, got caught up on my blogging here at the mighty kelloggbloggin.
3. I heated up some of the spaghetti sauce and meatballs I made for Sunday's birthday/family dinner, added some fennel seeds to it, thinned it with pasta water, and poured in over a bowl of penne. I also poured myself a small glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.
This simple meal somehow perfectly accompanied my viewing of Pretend It's a City on Netflix. It's a seven episode series. Each episode is under a half an hour long. Primarily, it features Martin Scorsese interviewing writer, public speaker, and occasional actor, Fran Lebowitz, who, for my money, is, if not a national treasure, certainly a Manhattan treasure. Lebowitz has lived, written, driven cab, hobnobbed, opined, and roamed the streets in Manhattan for over fifty years. In these interviews her acerbic wit, sheer verbal eloquence, shrewd observations, mighty, and sometimes blistering, opinions, and deep love and passion for Manhattan gives this series its richness, vitality, and, for me, irresistibility.
I think it's fair to say that I just cannot get enough of reading or watching documentaries and movies about New York City and that listening to Fran Lebowitz tell stories, riff on her neuroses, rhapsodize about what she loves about New York City, bemoan what's been lost over the past five decades, and describe her financial life, defined by her simultaneous hatred of money and love of expensive apartments, fine furniture, and staggering personal library (over 10,000 books) moved me to feel astonishment, intrigue, and wistfulness -- and, more than anything, made me laugh.
I watched five episodes this evening and the only reason I'm not looking forward to the last two is that I don't want this series to end. But, all will not be lost. About ten years ago HBO broadcast a documentary about Fran Lebowitz, directed by Martin Scorsese, entitled, Public Speaking -- and I just moved it to the top of my Netflix DVD queue (yes, I still have DVDs come to me in my mailbox!). I need to watch the DVD I presently have on hand and send it back so that I can get Public Speaking and enjoy more of Fran Lebowitz in action.
I think I'll add a note here at the end -- it's not uncommon, living in Kellogg, and being a (almost) lifelong westerner to hear people complain about obnoxious, arrogant, opinionated, haughty people "back East" -- maybe especially New Yorkers, but not exclusively. Fran Lebowitz epitomizes and embodies all of these complaints I've heard over the years. For whatever reason, these qualities that so many people I've known over the years find hard to abide, I enjoy. They do not mirror my personality at all. I'm mild mannered, more passive than aggressive, rarely opinionated, and try to be accepting and easy to please. So, when I sit and listen to, become enthralled by, and laugh out loud at and with Fran Lebowitz, it's not because we have much in common (aside from affection for New York City). I can't explain why I enjoy her and listening to other similar people. But I do.