Frenchy's Rant

Is it me, or does the headline “Three Killed in Massive Cartoon Protests” sound like it should be coming from the Warner Brothers studio instead of the real world?

And what is the protest over? A cartoon of the Prophet Mohammad, with a turban shaped like a bomb. That’s it. A drawing in a Danish newspaper. And now 70,000 Muslims are burning down everything in sight, including *GASP* A Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant in Pakistan.

How many of these people could even point out Denmark, that bastion of radical religious hatred? Hell, I’m not even sure where it is.

You really can’t make this stuff up, though sometimes I wish it was.

Called US Air (Motto: We hate to fly, and we hate you too!) this morning to try and change a flight. My request was pretty simple, or at least so I thought. I wanted to leave on the same flight at the same time, just one day later.

“Uhh… hang on sir, let me see what the fare difference is…”

“Fare difference? Uhh… OK.”

“Mr. Lasord, if you book this flight, the fare difference will be four hundred twenty-eight dollars, plus the hundred dollar change fee.”

“What?!? You’re shitting me, right? Five hundred and twenty-eight dollars extra to leave one day later? Forget it.”

-Click-

Is extortion part of their grand scheme to exit bankruptcy?

Expedia.com had the same extremely overpriced flight listed for a mere $171, which I gladly booked online, without any “help” from customer service.

I have to wonder what kind of drugs they lace the curry with over at US Air’s Department of Customer Screwing, which I am pretty sure is located in Bombay.

Riding season can’t start soon enough.

Dear Punxsutawney Phil,

Well, I guess I owe you an apology, don’t I? Last week I called you a punk and threatened you with extermination. Well, I take it back. I’m sorry, you little scamp. And while I am still not happy about your delaying riding season by six weeks, I have to say that you were right, considering the two feet of snow that fell in my back yard. Ten days after your shadow sighting, winter returned with a vengeance.

I guess the shadow really DOES know. Next year, try not to be such a big chicken, OK?

Sometimes having two days to get ready for a show isn’t enough. After flying from the lovely Newark airport to the equally lovely Indianapolis airport, getting a cab ride from a driver clearly practicing for Indy 500 qualifying, and checking into yet another anonymous hotel, setup began once again.

All TV trucks are different, but they all have one thing in common. They need electricity, lots of it, to work. From all the delicate digital equipment to the air conditioners and lights, modern TV trucks are power hungry beasts. And when those little electrons stop flowing, well, it makes work a lot more difficult.

For the whole set day, we noticed the lights would dim slightly every so often. Nobody paid much attention to it. Day of the show, the lights continued to sporadically dim. Then, we noticed a problem with the system used to communicate with the on air announcers. Every time the lights would dim, the IFB system would buzz and hum. The power source the truck was on was clearly unstable, and could possibly shut down during the show. This was a bad discovery. That it was discovered with only an hour to air was worse.

With the threat of a power failure possibly taking our show off the air, a quick discussion ensued. Minutes later, an unbelievable decision was made. With twenty five minutes (!) until our game was to be broadcast live to millions of eager NBA on ABC viewers, the truck would be switched to a new, untested power source. Of course this would mean shutting the entire truck down, and blind faith and trust that every setting created over the past two days would be saved, and restored in time.

Had it been fixed the day before, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But with less than an hour until air? Risky. Either way it was a gamble.

New power cables were quickly run and connected. With eighteen minutes to air, the truck whirred back to life on it’s new power source. Settings were hurriedly reloaded.

With no rehearsals, no time to check anything, a deep breath, fingers and toes crossed, time ran out, and we were on the air.

The gamble paid off, and our show remained on the air. Basketball fans nationwide were delighted, but not nearly as happy as those that took the gamble.

WHICH WAY DO I GO!??!?!

(Somehow I know I’d get a ticket on this street…)