The difference between "refurbished" and "pre-owned"

Don Quixote is tilting at windmills again...

Okay, so here's the deal. Awhile back, I bought an XM Satellite radio. It was a good deal, and there was a $50 rebate.

Now this was a refurbished radio. Let me state that clearly and up front, but when I checked the fine print for the rebate, it didn't indicate word one about "refurbished" models. Pre-owned models weren't eligible, but the last time I checked, when something was sent back to the manufacturer and repaired, while it can't be sold as new, they do have to indicate it was refurbished.

Refurbished and pre-owned are two different things in my book.

Here's the best way I can describe it. I bought a radio new. It was DOA, so I have to send it back to get it repaired. It's easier for them to send me a new model, so they send me a new one, keep the defective one and ship me a new model. They fix the broken one and proceed to sell it, but it's not new. It's refurbished. That doesn't mean someone else owned it. The manufacturer had a defective unit replaced and are selling it again.

That's refurbished. Pre-owned is something different. Pre-owned means it's in working condition. It's fine. Might have a dent in the fender, but it still works. I either sell it to you or to someone else, who turns around and re-sells it. That's pre-owned. It was in good working condition and they're selling it again because they can't use it or they're trying to turn a profit or something like that.

I feel I'm getting screwed here out of my $50. This unit was sold refurbished. I know it's not "new", but you cannot tell me that a refurbished unit can be considered "pre-owned". It doesn't work that way.

Mind you, I've still got to call the company I bought it from because the battery in the radio can't hold a charge of more than 30 minutes off the base. I don't care if it's new, used, refurbished or whatever, that's just wrong.

I ain't happy, kids. I'm being bent over and reamed...

Miracles do occur occasionally

Yes, I am having a salad for dinner.

A nice Greek salad which I added a lovely lite raspberry kiwi vinaigrette.

Ate it all, too, 'cept for the eggs...and the pit they forgot to remove from one of the olives...

Laughter is the best medicine...

It's a good thing I live alone.
If someone else were with me, after this evening they'd have me locked away somewhere.

I haven't laughed this hard in...sheesh...I can't remember when.

Beerfest is more than likely not the kind of movie most readers of this blog would enjoy, but let me tell you, it was, by far, one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

Hearing Cloris Leachman say "If you can drink ram piss, fuck, you can drink anything" had me laughing so long and so hard, tears were flowing. I had to pause the movie for a good five minutes to regain my composure, text my best friend saying that I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop crying, wait for the phone call explaining the text, and then telling my best friend that we have to watch this together sometime before I could start the movie again.

Of course, I had to go back and hear Ms. Leachman...a venerable actress (and whenever I see her, I still say "Blucher" and go "neigh"...hardcore Mel Brooks fans will understand that one) talk about drinking ram's piss and stroke a smoked sausage in a sexually suggestive manner...well...I lost it all over again.

The Late Night Friday Flick is back, and it was kicked off again with a good one. Beerfest was damn good.

Oh, man...ram's piss...I can't stop laughing.

The last post on the Andre Rieu concert

...for 2007, at the very least.

And it's less a word and more a picture.

Me, at the concert, all dressed up.



The author does not guarantee he won't talk about Andre Rieu again, but this (should) be the last blog about a most excellent concert. Emphasis on "should".

A musical interlude

The following are lyrics to one of the songs performed last week during the Andre Rieu concert. It's a piece from the play Elisabeth, more popular with European audiences from what I've been able to gather, although I could be mistaken. I'm sharing it here because, besides being beautiful, I hope it's words touch your heart in some way...

I Belong to Me

I will not be well bred,
Obedient and well behaved,
I will not be steady,
And ready to be enslaved,
I don't want to be your property,
Cuz I belong to me,

When I walk the tightrope,
Don't stop me, Just let me try,
I want to take chances,
Find out what it takes to fly,
I don't care at all if you agree,
I belong to me,

If you try to range me on your own array,
You force me to leave you alone,
If you try to change me,
I'll just break away,
To be what I am on my own,

I'm freezing, I'm burning,
You can't put me on the shelf,
I'm growing, I'm learning,
To be even more myself,
I know it's not easy to be free,
But I belong to me,

I hate to be burdened,
With duties and ancient lies,
Can't stand to be touched,
By the looks of a thousand eyes,
I flee from the crowd in agony,
I just belong to me,

If you want to find me don't hold me so tight,
Don't break me and don't take me on,
If you try to hold me,
I'm ready to fight,
I'll shake off my chains and be gone!

I'm here when you need me,
I live and I die with you,
I'll share all your troubles,
I'll laugh and I'll cry with you,
You can blame me and bless me,
But you cannot possess me,
Cuz I belong to me,
To me!

Two hours and fourty minutes of Heaven on Earth

Friday night...
...scratch that.

Saturday Morning. Midnight.

Got home from the Andre Rieu concert about an 45 minutes ago.

Do I even have to tell you it was incredible?




Yes, there were moments when a tear popped into my eye, and My Kid was on my mind a bit, but it was beautiful. Sitting on the aisle in the center, three rows back, the view was amazing. The artists could see me as easily as I could see them (and given my good posture, odds are, they could see me more than anyone else in my section).

He did the standard fare: Strauss Waltzes, a polka or two, O Mio Bambino Caro (with the lovely Carmen Monarca singing...she is beautiful). There were some surprises, a new face or two (including a new soprano from Australia whose name I didn't catch, but whose voice...and figure...one could not ignore), and he did Bolero.

Bolero. I love Bolero! One of my all-time favourite pieces.

Of course, during the whole encore, the Pittsburghers stayed in their seats. I tried to stay standing and dance...yes, I did shake my moneymaker...when they played Marina, but given my height and girth, I didn't want to deprive the poor guy sitting behind me from seeing the stage.

Brahms' Lullabye came too quickly to close the show.

It was a beautiful, magical night. Wonderful. I loved every second of it. Maestro Rieu, thank you for another wonderful concert.

And if any of the ladies in the orchestra happen to read this blog, I was the goofball in the third row dancing...your beauty made the night all the better. :)

P.S. If you'd like to see more pictures, check out my flickr account!

Wake-up Call

Sunday morning. 6:30 AM.

I'm sleeping peacefully. Resting. No intention of getting up for at least another hour, when I hear a screeching outside my bedroom window.

I look outside and one of the local squirrels is sitting there.

(File photo of the offender, currently referred to as "Mooch" or "Hammy".)

He wants me to get up to feed him. I yell out the window to go away and let me sleep.

Next thing I hear is a couple "thuds" downstairs near the back door.

The damage is done. I'm awake. I go downstairs and look...the squirrel is jumping against the screen door!

Sigh.

No sleep for me, and no peanuts for him today.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mommies out there...

Things explained

Okay.

Last night's late-night post is what it is.

It's the morning. I had some sleep (but not enough) and I've made a phone call.
Things make a bit more sense now.

Still...it says something to me when you hear a therapist say "I don't trust my nursing staff" and "they don't have the time to do things properly".

Real confidence booster there. Makes me really happy I've entrusted my kid to your care.

Sigh...

Why is it that nurses in a hospital...a hospital...are able to feed My Kid properly, make sure she swallows, but the staff in the nursing home whose job it is to care for her are unable to do the same?

Why is it that, as soon as she gets back there, they say "oh, she's aspirating and we can't feed her and we want to put a tube in her stomach"? Are they that lazy that they can't take five fucking seconds to make sure she swallowed?

She needs help, yes. She doesn't remember how to eat. That's why I've put her in a home, to get her the help because I can't do it ...that's their fucking job.

First thing tomorrow morning, phone calls will be made. Pray for them I'm not as pissed as I am right this second.

I'm going to bed.

C'est la vie

Looks like my friend who said would accompany me to the Andre Rieu concert in two weeks can't make it. Business trips out of town and all that.

So I have an extra ticket. Anyone wanna join me? :-D

UPDATE!

Sorry, folks. The extra ticket's taken. :)