An Unexpected Windfall

A pleasant surprise arrived in the form of Friday’s paycheck: a yearly raise and—since it was the third paycheck of the month—no withdrawal for benefits.

I thought briefly about getting a rug like we have in the living room for my study. But since that’s the direct route out of the house for the dogs in the morning and I can’t tell you how many times the dam has proverbially burst before I got the back door open, I didn’t relish the thought of a urine-soaked carpet. Nah, we’ll just live with the polished concrete until such time as we can also buy a carpet cleaner.

Friday evening I was scrolling through my Instagram as I am wont to do, and I ran across this:

While the Horizon L166 is not my first choice for classic JBL loudspeakers of the late 70s (that would be the Century L100), they are a close second. The L100 Century—both original incarnation (used) and especially the retro reissue (new and currently in production) from last year—are way out of my price range, and I was certain these Horizons would be the same.

For shits-n-giggles I DMed the guy and asked if they were still available and how much he wanted, fully expecting to be told they were already gone or quoted a couple grand for the pair.

Not even close. They were still available and easily within my budget, and while both the rug for my study and these loudspeakers were considered “a want not a need,” I have been wanting to retire my Infinitys for years now but didn’t know what to replace them with—so I found it very easy to justify dropping some of that unexpected coin on them. And hey—it’s been over two years since I bought any stereo equipment. I’m allowed.

The seller was upfront and told me the pair (with sequential serial numbers, no less) weren’t perfect: one of the grilles had a chipped corner and some minor damage by the JBL logo, but the cabinets and the drivers themselves were pristine and worked perfectly. He sent followup photos, and after seeing the damage I decided I could live with it; Lord knows the speakers were still in better condition than my Infinitys even though they’re both the same age.

Because all this sounded too good to be true, before transferring any money, I checked the online reviews for the store and they were uniformly positive, so after texting back and forth with the seller, I sent payment.

I also needed a pair of stands, since there was no way I was going to drill holes in the bottom of these beauties to transfer the IKEA cabinet stands I’d attached to my Infinitys. (For some reason, after being ignored by the dogs for years they had become pee-magnets.) I found suitable stands on eBay, and placed the order. Everything should be arriving late next week.




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Thought for the Day

Not mine, but worth passing on nonetheless:

You remember in Jaws when everyone was pissed that the beaches were closed because the shark kept killing people and they knew it was killing people and they went to the beach anyway? That’s what this pandemic is like.

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Flashback Friday

I was trying to come up with a picture or two to post on Instagram for #flashbackfriday (since I missed #throwbackthursday), and instead of posting some old photo of me grimacing, I thought I’d branch out a bit and started scrolling through my virtual photo albums to see what I could find.

This led me to the year and a half I spent working at DISH, aka The Worst Company in the United States to Work For, and I realized that as fucked as things are in the world right now, working at DISH was still worse. I honestly don’t know how I lasted there as long as I did, but it truly was my personal trip through Hell and  these pictures have reminded me just what an incredible job I now find myself in and how I’m actually appreciated for I do there.

Someday I shall write at length about those eighteen months at DISH, but for now I will suffice by posting some snarky-but-still accurately captioned photos:

Welcome to Hell
The Gates of Hell. Don’t even THINK about passing through these after 9 am or you’ll be subject to disciplinary action unless you and your supervisor have a damn good reason for you being late (and snowstorms do not count).
IT Tech area, aka the 7th Level of Hell
IT Tech area. If it looks like a frat house after a party there’s a reason. It was run like one. (Something I was unaware of while working as a contractor, sequestered in a totally different area and not exposed to the effluent that was freely flowing here. (If I had been, I probably would not have accepted their hastily-assembled, last minute offer of permanent employment when my contract was expiring.)
The Build/Storage Room where I’d been sequestered AFTER I convinced the Demons to let me clean and organize it.
Demonic management decided the frat house atmosphere was no longer in the company’s best interest, so it was time to clean and reorganize the 7th Level in Preparation. Preparation for what, you ask?
In preparation for THIS. The “T-Bar” and the new entrance that closes off the 7th Level from the rest of the floor. (Because apparently it was easier to seal off the frat house from the rest of the floor instead of addressing the underlying personnel issues that allowed it to continue.)
And, like everywhere else in the building, the Demons needed to track one’s arrival and departure times from the Seventh Level.
The NEW Seventh Level of Hell. Just as clean and orderly as the old one, because…personnel.
Have a seat and watch souls being tortured while you wait for your own time to come.

Not a blatant ripoff of Apple’s Genius Bar. Nope. Not at all. Nothing to see here. “Your Minions will serve you shortly.”
Minions waiting to learn their punishment for yet another minor infraction in what became known as “the Friday beatdown.” Or maybe it was the official opening of the T-Bar…
The bowels of Hell
All souls’ paths lead to the abattoir.
Escape and single-image expression of my opinion of that company.

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Another Thing That the Trump Virus Has Destroyed

Has anyone else noticed the rates for international shipping have gone through the roof? I mean, buying vinyl from Europe or Australia has never been cheap, but lately it’s all but impossible, and it’s just one more thing to add to my Trump Hate List. Either the sellers are refusing to ship to the US altogether (have we really become the planetary pariah?) or the cost is twice that of the vinyl itself.

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I Knew It!


Something in my little pre-pubescent gay heart knew there was something more going on with these guys than they were showing us.

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