A friend of mine got me hooked on a hilarious Web site: failblog.org

It’s just a bunch of very funny photographs, mostly of some form of failure. I just sent in two pictures that I’ve taken over the past few weeks.

I don’t know when or if they will post these pics over there, but you can go by and see all of the other laugh-out-loud funny photos.

Bullgrit

A few years ago I learned that the top of UPS trucks are white. I was standing at a 4th-floor window of my office building looking down on the loading docks at the back. I saw the brown UPS truck below and thought, “Oh, well that makes sense.”

I imagine the trucks can get mighty hot, especially in the summer, with all that dark paint. Having the top of the trucks a bright white can reflect off the direct sunlight and help keep the interiors cooler than if the top was also dark brown. That’s smart.

Though I learned something new that day (which I’ve confirmed with other sightings), it didn’t really strike me as surprising. I mean, UPS trucks are not common to me — I see them occasionally on the streets, but I’ve never had any personal dealings with them — so learning something that makes perfect and immediate sense isn’t worth noting (unless you’re grasping for something to post about on your boring blog).

Last week I was in an afternoon meeting on the 6th floor of my office, and I could see a main city street out the window. I saw a yellow school bus go by below. The top of the bus showed the vehicle’s number. “Whoa,” I thought. A few minutes later I saw another bus with its number on top. In the couple of hours I was in the meeting, I saw four or five buses go by, all with their numbers painted large on their tops.

Now that was something that surprised me. I spent, what, 12 years riding buses? I see buses on the road every day of the week, right in front of me, beside me, and behind me. I pass schools and see a dozen buses in the parking lot. My oldest child has occasionally ridden on a school bus, at which I have taken him to board and been there to see him come off. But I’ve never seen the top of a school bus.

To double the surprise, the only reason I can think of for there to be the number on top is for situations like having a [police] helicopter following the bus.

[For those of you wondering: until this new job (started late last year), no, I’ve never worked in a tall (more than 2 stories) building inside a city.]

This discovery of something so large but hidden on such a ubiquitous object really amazed me. I thought, by virtue of having personally experienced them for so many years, I had intimate knowledge of school buses.

It makes me think of the time I was going to lunch with my visiting Swedish counterpart (from my previous job) and she saw a yellow school bus for the first time. She commented that she had seen them many times in American movies, but she’d never actually seen one in real life.

Funny how the mundane to one person can still surprise that person, and it can be exotic to someone else.

Bullgrit

Every night before bed, I (or Cowgrit) read books to our boys. Each boy picks out what they want me to read, and we settle down in my and Cowgrit’s bed, with me in the middle and a boy on either side. The choices of what to read range from a comic book to a kids encyclopedia — whatever they want. Often I also get Calfgrit8 to read to us.

A couple weeks ago, I offered to read J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (or There And Back Again). It’s been a couple and a half of decades since I read this book — back in early high school — so although I remember the story pretty well, I had forgotten the actual text.

I remembered that The Lord of the Rings was dense with archaic language, (as I’ve read bits and pieces of those books in the last ten years), but The Hobbit is supposed to be a children’s book. Although I don’t remember having trouble reading it as a teenager, and I can read it in my head easily enough, reading it aloud is very different. I think I sound like Mushmouth of Fat Albert’s gang. Maybe it’s my Southern accent; reading Old English with a Southern drawl.

The story is a lot of fun, and Calfgrit8 is enjoying it immensely, despite my mangling of the language. Before starting it, to get his interest, I told him the book was about a hobbit, a group of dwarves, and a wizard — I had to explain what a hobbit is — on a journey to recover the dwarves’ home and gold from an evil dragon. I told him they would encounter trolls, elves, goblins, giant spiders, and a strange creature called Gollum.

So far we’re only up to the group’s arrival in Rivendell. I have a bookmark that folds out to show a map of Middle-Earth, and we keep checking it to track their journey through the lands.

When I suggested I read this book to him, I didn’t realize just how difficult it would be to read aloud. Had I remembered, or had I checked before mentioning it, I don’t know if I would have agreed to read it each night. I might have just waited till he was older and could read it on his own. Even if I’m not ruining the story with my reading aloud, there’re lots of words I’m sure he doesn’t understand yet.

But he’s still showing interest, and he said tonight he wants us to read it every night until we finish it. So I guess I’m doing something right.

Bullgrit

Our home phone line was having problems a few days ago. When someone called, our phone would ring once and then nothing more. Even the answering machine wouldn’t pick up. So I called AT&T to get some repair service.

Through the push-button choices, I chose to talk to an agent. After a minute on hold, an agent answered. I told her my phone problem and she said she’d put me through to the repair department. While on hold, waiting for them, the agent gave me a sales spiel.

She asked me about having repair insurance, and explained AT&T’s deal. I said, “No thanks.”

She asked me about Internet service, and explained AT&T’s deal. I said, “No thanks.”

She asked me if anyone in my family needed wireless service, and explained AT&T’s deal. I said, “No thanks.”

She said we were still on hold for the repair department – “I’m keeping an eye on it.” I thought it odd to be on hold like this (the agent continuing to talk to me), and soon I came to not believe it.

Then she asked me to rate her customer service: satisfied or very satisfied (apparently it’s not an option to be less than satisfied).

I said, “Satisfied.”

She said, “You’re not very satisfied?”

“Well,” I said, “I’m not talking to the repair department yet.”

“Yes sir,” she said, “we should be through to them in only another minute. Is there anything I could have done or can do to make your experience with AT&T customer service very satisfied?”

I said: “I can’t think of anything other than get me through to the repair department.”

She said: “OK. Just for clarity, if during your call, you get asked to rate customer service, the question is only for your dealings with me.”

I said: “OK”

I was put on hold. About 2 seconds later, another woman answered and introduced herself as the previous woman’s supervisor. She wanted to ask me why I wasn’t very satisfied with her handling of my call. She said they strive for very satisfied.

I said: “Well, I need my phone line repaired, and that’s not exactly something she can help me with.”

She said: “I understand. Is there anything we can do to make your experience with us very satisfied?”

I laughed out loud, and said: “I still need my phone line repaired. I could talk to the repair department.”

She agreed to put me through to the repair department, but before letting me go she reminded me that if I get asked to rate customer service, the question only pertains to my dealings with the previous representative.

At last, I was put through to the repair department. But I only got a computer wanting me to give my phone number and answer yes or no questions. At one point when I was trying to give my phone number, the computer cut me off with, “You have answered that you wish to discontinue this phone call . . .”

“No,” I said. Fortunately I wasn’t disconnected.

In the end, the computer told me that it has determined there is a problem with our phone line, and a service person will come out to fix it. It should be fixed a week from tomorrow. Oh great. A week without a home phone.

Fortunately, a couple days later our phone line was working fine. They must have fixed it.

Then a couple more days later the AT&T repair man called our home phone. He mentioned the repair ticket he had, but he couldn’t find anything wrong with our line. I told him that it started working properly a couple days ago, and I just assumed they had fixed it.

He said maybe they had fixed it, but the repair ticket was still open. I told him all was well, and he closed the ticket.

So I’m not sure what to think of my experience with getting repair work from AT&T. The initial phone call and dealing with customer service was hilarious, and my dealing with the repair department was only through an automated system. But the line got fixed in a couple of days and the repair man called personally to check up on it. In the end, the result left me very satisfied. Ironic.

Bullgrit