When I was a kid, the sporting green (SF Chronicle sports page) was full of talk of the San Francisco Giants annual June swoon. It happened like clockwork for 4 or 5 years in a row.
Looking back, I wonder if it was caused by playing home games at chilly Candlestick Park then road games in stadia where it was summer. Beats the hell outta me. In the immortal words of an old song:
But it’s a long, long while
From May to December
And the days grow short
When you reach September
I’m having my own swoon this year but in September, not June. Hence the quote from Kurt Weill and Maxwell Anderson’s September Song. Cue Ella’s version:
September 2021 has been a brutal month. I’ve spent the last week fighting with FedEx over my new computer, which has been sweltering in place for a week. FedEx plays fast and loose with the facts; it took me days to learn that “in transit” means in a trailer. Never say I didn’t teach you anything.
I’ve been a squeaky wheel, pressuring HP to pressure FedEx, which they finally did yesterday. Then a minor miracle happened: it’s supposed to be delivered sometime today. Hopefully, the PC wasn’t damaged by sweltering in a trailer across the lake.
Mine is not the only FedEx horror story here in Debrisville. A friend waited 18 days for a delivery. When I heard that alarm bells went off and I my inner lawyer emerged ready to do battle.
The whole inner lawyer thing is exhausting. I’d rather live peacefully but you gotta do what you gotta do when you gotta do it. I tried, however, not to get in the gotta with FedEx although I’m FedUp with their FuckUps. I just want this to end. I plan to avoid them whenever possible in the future. FedEx can go fuck itself.
People seem to think my head injury is the worst thing that happened to me this month. It was not. It only hurt for a few days. The blood gusher, the stapling, and the unstapling were eventful but not painful because of my high threshold of pain.
I’ve spent too much of September angry: at Entergy, at Mayor Teedy, at the fates over the death of a friend, and at FedEx. Anger is debilitating and has wrecked my sleep pattern. I’m hoping to get back to normal at some point in the near future.
The good news is that however rough it’s been I have it easy compared to others in Hurricane Ida’s path. The Gret Stet of Louisiana is full of destroyed houses, downed trees, damaged roofs, and leaky ceilings. I don’t have much to complain about in comparison to those folks but venting feels good. So vent I must and vent I do. Uh oh, that made me sound like Yogurt in Spaceballs…
I’m hoping to put my inner lawyer back in stasis now that things are a bit less bad except for that whole pesky pandemic thing. I wrote this personal essay in hopes of ending my September swoon. It’s cheaper than therapy, after all.
The last word goes to Lou Reed:
UPDATE: The PC arrived. It looks okay. Will set it up tomorrow per the suggestion of several people who know more about such things than I.