Crazy App... Lazy App...

 

Memoirs of a Geezer

  

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:         Crazy App...  Lazy App...

At the speed of something, not light, or sound, possibly the "speed of ideas" coursing through a creative mind, and then pausing at a Eureka millisecond-moment,  technology tends to confound, confuse and dent a Geezer's brain.  The speed of it, the collision of techno marvels onto an aging psyche...  It's all too bewildering.

Consider, for example, the smartphone, its profusion of "applications, or "Apps," in the vernacular of today's wunderkinds and their endless inventions that in a blink supplant those of others mere microseconds past!  

"Wait a second," I muse.  "What was that wondrous thing I saw in this morning's Chronicle?  What??!!...  Whoa!!??  It's already obsolete??!!...   (Returning to the primary subject matter!)...  Those of us in the tightening vise of GeezerHood who continue to labor on, denizens, more like captives of the "Gig Economy," we have to re-train our brains of necessity, in ongoing efforts to grab hold of and absorb those new, if fleeting flashes of technology.  Otherwise, and only if financial security permits, we may as well retire to the recliner and the hypnotic pulse of the large, flat screen and its relentless pump-streams of pap and pulp.  

The elastic brain!  Do those of us of a certain age continue to enjoy a mind that can in fact function, absorb and decipher the codes of modern society?  Well, yes... maybe, some of us, possibly...  maybe...  When SweetHeart and I ply our current trade as exemplary food delivery drivers, we are compelled to use and understand "Apps."  So what's the problem?...

We're on a delivery with a sense of urgency and purpose.  The app rudely interrupts our trains of thought, or maybe a pleasant conversation.  "In the upcoming right lane, turn left onto Dinglebalm Street..."  

"But," SweetHeart wisely notes, "we're already on the correct route.  The delivery's on this very street, about...  lemme check the map...  a mile and a half from here.  Be Quiet...  stop talking, 'Nellie.' "

 Or the app has us taking an absurdly circuitous route, with the map sometimes acquiescing foolishly, and we know the right way to drive to our destination.  "Just keep going straight," SweetHeart states assuredly.  "Then turn right on Clementine Avenue.  It's the fourth house from the corner, on the left..."  

Sometimes the app insists, "Continue on McFarley for three-quarters of a mile, using all three lanes..."  

"I mean," I say in an attempt at comic interpretation, "is it appropriate for us to weave
in and out of all three lanes of traffic, so that no one but us can use them?  But that seems an obvious invitation to a traffic citation.  Do you see any police cars, SweetHeart?  If

not, I'll start deviating wildly..."

At times the app gets inexplicably lazy!  The mechanical direction-shrieking voice of "Noxious Nellie" refuses to speak to us...  shuts down completely.  It's maddening.  We tend to rely upon "her" for proper, or comic, directions to our destinations.  I opine that Nellie is on a coffee break or off to the ladies' lounge or has possibly swooned over an impossibly handsome artificial intelligence of the male variety.   "Hello!  Nellie!...  Hello!"

SweetHeart walks to the door of a recipient's home.  A foot or so removed from the person who ordered, she hands a sack of food to the customer.  She looks down at the app.  It says, "You are too far away from the delivery."

"If I were any closer I'd be on the customer's toes, our noses making direct contact!  Are you nuts, app?!  I couldn't possibly get any closer!"

Here's a good one:   SweetHeart leaves a sack of East Indian cuisine on a customer's porch.  The instructions clearly state, "Please leave the food at the door."  The app chimes in, "Remember to leave the food in a safe place."  SweetHeart looks around at a busy and well-populated neighborhood.  The food is highly visible on the porch.

"How?" SweetHeart wisely asks.  She rings a bell if there is one, and knocks loudly on the door.  No one responds.  She's done the best she can do.  "What else can I do?" she asks of me, her partner, or rhetorically.  If payment and a tip appear eventually on the

app, we know she's done everything correctly, short of house-breaking or throwing the sack onto a roof and then leaving a crude "treasure map" as to its whereabouts!

Picture-Taking as evidence of a proper delivery:   Rules demand, on many occasions, that SweetHeart take a picture of the food sack in situ, when instructions ask that the delivery be left at the door.  She takes a photograph using her phone and its terribly clever app.  Nothing happens.  "Please take a picture," the app demands after she's taken the picture.  She cannot verify the delivery unless the app acknowledges that she's taken the picture.  "Please take a picture," the app repeats demandingly.  SweetHeart takes a picture of the sidewalk, a dead worm, a flight of wooden steps leading to the porch.  The app responds, allowing SweetHeart to slide the "Complete Delivery" bar to the right!

"In other late-breaking crazy-app news," the imaginary anchor announcer shouts, sounding nearly hysterical and slightly demented!... 

  

App:     "Do you wish to contact the customer?"

SweetHeart:    "I've just delivered the food personally to the recipient customer.  We chatted amiably about weather, porches and the quality of local Thai take-away..."  

App:     "Be alert!  Look both ways before crossing busy intersections!"

SweetHeart:    "What...  You think I'm 6 years old and barely conscious?!"

App:    "Make a U-Turn..."

SweetHeart:    "Don't be silly, Nellie.  I'm already at the customer's door!"

App:    "Doodledly Doot...   Doodeldy Doot..." (New pickup / delivery summons from

global headquarters) -- Pickup from Sheldon's Authentic Real Napolese Pizza Pie Parlor...  Location at 5th and LaughHam, on your left...  

SweetHeart:    (Upon arriving at the app-stated and apparent location!)  "This isn't right!  There's a chain link fence on our left on which we see an acre of litter blown up against it!  Beyond the fence is the Freeway.  We can't pickup a pizza on the Freeway."  (She telephones the pizza parlor, and is correctly informed the location is on South 27th Street just south of Howard Avenue...   miles away from the Freeway address!)   The pizza proprietors are heard consumed in mirth as she rings off... 

One supposes, or perhaps, one confesses, it isn't nice to ridicule a person.  But the app is an inanimate "someone," and Nellie is a mechanical entity, not a real person.  Therefore, a bit of innocent ridicule is entirely appropriate.  One hopes readers can empathize with this non-tribute to Apps and their sometimes...  um, maybe quite often...  absurdities, ridiculous pronouncements and erroneous instructions.  Thank you for your kind attention to this bit of nonsense.  Comments, questions, complaints, (minor, verbal) hostilities and rebuttals always welcome!  

Humbly Submitted 03-24-2022 -- by Joel K.

  

  

    

 

    

 

 

        

   

Nibbles to the Masses... or, Adventures in Food Delivery!

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth 

to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:      Nibbles to the Masses...  or, the Adventures of Food Delivery Professionals!


It began a year ago April.  They are now some 15 months into the process.  For those of us in "robust advancing age," we discover there are diminishing career opportunities for the greying.  Happily, there are organizations that will employ anyone who's breathing, slightly, and can produce necessary credentials, such as a valid driving license, for example!


This is a story about an intrepid couple who, joyously, accepted their fate, and secured employment in the restaurant food collection and delivery profession.  The experience has been suffused with adventure.   And they have learned, along the road, so to speak, a great many new and wonderful lessons about life and the fascinating individuals who populate our urban landscapes!

Some examples...  Delivering a "Bento Box" style meal to an Asian individual, the male component of the delivery duo stated confidently to the recipient:  "Wing Wei Woo?!  Your order sir!"  The man's name was Zhang Kao Ding.  The deliverer meant no disrespect; he merely thought he was uttering the recipient's correct name, trying valiantly to greet his customer with warmth and a kind of wisdom, certain he had the correct name in his memory bank!  The recipient looked confused,  but not the least offended.  He put it down to occidental ignorance!  

The couple delivers a great many food orders to residents in inner-city neighborhoods.  On one memorable occasion, the couple picked up two orders of fine cuisine, one a burger and fries from "Lard Man Lenny's" food truck, the second from a fine Asian restaurant.  The former was packed in a brown bag, dotted with grease splotches, the latter in a pristine white plastic sack.  The couple mixed up the orders, delivering the Asian food to a young couple.  The nice man who was handed the brown bag, immediately telephoned the delivery people, demanding his correct portion of far more expensive food stuffs. 

Undaunted, the intrepid duo, given a total of 15 minutes to correct the delivery error -- the restaurant was closing in those 15 minutes! -- sped crazily back to the restaurant, probably some 15 minutes away from the south side Milwaukee home of the recipient.   They plunked down $35.00 for the replacement food, and sped back to the originally intended recipient.  The trip was worth approximately $25.00 or so (time and mileage plus a generous payment "boost" available that particular evening).  The customer, now appeased by the duo's commitment to delivery excellence, not to mention admission of their error, their culpability, presented them a $10.00 tip!!  Proving, once again, the value of integrity and superior customer service!!

Here's another example...  Honesty is a Golden Policy!  The couple delivered a fine food package to an African-American woman, not greasy fast stuff!  She handed the male deliverer $65.00.  "No, no..." the man protested, "You've already paid for your food on the App (meaning the application on a SmartPhone)!  I can't take that money."  (The man likes to term it an "Ape," amusingly, he thinks!)  

The woman said, "Well then, here's $40.00...  your tip."

"Good gosh," said the man, "That's too much, that's too generous!"  

"I admire and thank you for you honesty," the woman replied.  "Here, you must take this."  She handed him $25.00.  She would brook no further argument.  He thanked her profusely and went on his way, with his wife and partner, of course, to the next summons, the next pickup and delivery!

Over the months of their new career choice, the pair has made many remarkable discoveries.

 Among them, in inner-city neighborhoods, the residents tend to receive their food packages and

generously tip the delivery drivers.  Not always the same in wealthy neighborhoods, where privilege seems to override the need for gratitude and courtesy.  There are of course exceptions.  Additionally, in the inner city, there's a wonderful sense of community.  People sit on their porches with friends, neighbors and family members, chatting amiably, often laughing, sharing both the day's trials and its triumphs.

The two, the "Dynamic Duo" (with apologies to Batperson and BirdBoy, and the people who created various comic books!), do not always earn as much currency as they'd like, even as in the not-too-distant past, but they do tend to make their "nut," or enough to sustain life and limb each working week...  sort of!!   The earnings downturn is due in large measure to the stinginess of the parent conglomerate.  Perhaps the aforementioned will loosen its hold on its coffers as summer surrenders once again to the icy bite of Winter!  

In the meantime, given the rampant ageism that infects our society, the pair feels fortunate to have a means of earning a few shekels, or geld, florins, dinars, pesos, pounds, francs, krones, birrs...  you know, MONEY!!  And they plan to soldier on until they are no longer termed "fiduciary imbeciles," or some such offensive name calling, by the monied set!!  The two plan to continue their quest toward amassing great sums of retirement income!!  Of course, death might well intervene before that happens...   Sigh!!  

p.s.  The "Sigh" is merely an empathetic gesture on behalf of, in support of and in honor of, too, the subjects of this piece!!  Thank You, and may all of your Delivery Take Away orders be fresh...  or Hot, or cold, maybe, if that's how you ordered the stuff??...!   

Please Note:    Other practitioners in the delivery trades are welcome to comment or share their own experiences.  Those who drive and deliver stuff to earn their livings deserve to be heard, not to mention, deserve respect and admiration.  Damn Right!!  











     

A Brilliant New Career...

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth 

to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:             Adventures in the "Dining Car"...   (Act Two!) 
The Players:            Undine and Ulmer
Title of Act Two:      Embarking upon a Brilliant Career as "Goober Comestibles" 
                               (GC) Pick-Up and Delivery Transportation Professionals! 

A Stage Play (sort of...)!

The Settings:    A Vehicle Bumping along a Lumpy Roadway, Somewhere in the Midwest, at  various food purveying establishments and at the residences of varied food consuming recipients!)

Date and Time:    (scene One) Early Afternoon; (scene Two) Evening...

Scene One    (Character names have been modified in order to obscure true identities!!)

Undine:   "The whole darn business made me anxious!  First they want my Social Security

number, then our bank routing and checking account numbers!  I mean, what if it was a crazy scam to rob us of our worldly goods, all our possessions and paltry bank accounts?!"

Ulmer:    "Well, yeah, a bit scary, maybe, but in the end it all turned out alright, aina?  I mean, they have to have that information to set us up as legitimate Goober Comestibles delivery guys!  Right?"

Undine:    "Yeah, I guess, but it scared me silly at the beginning.  Didn't it bother you?"

Ulmer:    "Yeah, I admit it.  I was a bit trepidatious at first.  But then I had my panic attack and some gas pains and everything turned out fine...  Oh, and a couple of spasms from my hiatal hernia...!"  

Undine:    "Oh, wait, we have a ding!  Head for Pizza Palacio on Doobish Street!"  (The duo drives down lumpy, pot-holed streets, eventually arriving at Pizza Palacio!).  "We're here.  Make a U-turn to pick me up in front of the joint.  I'll go in and get the stuff, the pizza, or whatever the Goober guy ordered."  (She emerges with a large pizza pie and a paper sack 

containing garlic bread, we think, maybe salad...!)

Ulmer:    "Where do we go...  Where we headed??"

Undine:    "Be patient.  I have to get the routing directions on my app.  This is all done by smartphone and apps, you know.  I don't have everything in my head, and it isn't written on the pizza sack!"  (Undine places the large pizza pie in an insulated cooler sack, the paper sack on the floor to her right!).  Turn right and then go straight for a while.  I'll tell you when to turn...  Wait!  Where's Dibble Street?  Do we have a Dibble Street in this metroplex? I don't think the pizza people gave us proper directions!"

Ulmer:    "Hey!  There's an average man on the street!  Excuse me, um...  pardon me!  Average

Man, Do you know where Dibble Street is?"

Average Man on the Street:    "Yeah.  You're just a few blocks away...  It may or may not end at the intersection of Boswell and Binkley...  I think!  Just keep driving.  You'll find it..."  (Eventually, they find the destination, about 20 minutes later!)

Undine:    (At the high-rise apartment of the pizza recipient Goober guy who ordered the large pie!)  "Excuse me ma'am (to the concierge)...  Do you know the apartment number of George X.?  We have an incorrect apartment number!"  (Finally, with exemplary detection, they find the correct apartment!)

The Goober Guy Pizza Recipient:   (Opens door following loud knocking and bell ringing)  "Where were you.  This pie must be cold by now, for pity sake.  I'm not happy..."  

Undine:   "You could re-heat it.  Do you have a conventional oven?  Convection, maybe? A microwave?  A toaster oven?...  A box of matches?"  (Recipient slams door in the faces of Undine and Ulmer!  They ride down the elevator and jauntily bounce down a few steps to the waiting vehicle, its emergency flashers blinking importantly!!)

Ulmer:   "Hey!  Another ding!  We're really rollin'...  Where to?"

Undine:   "Um...  Wait, it's thinking...  Ah!  Head for the 'Great Wall of Fong' on Muggle Street...      (Pause to pick up order!) OK, now we've picked up the order.  Head for the University District, State Avenue just north of 18th Street.  The guy who ordered is, um, lemme see...   Zhing Woo W."

Ulmer:   "Here, let me pop out of the car and deliver the food into the hands of...  What's his name again...   (Hands a package of Emperor's ToFu and Chicken Lo Bong to the customer!)  Here you go...  Um, Wing Wei Woo??!"  (Customer looks at Ulmer as if considering him a Sinophobic buffoon!  Undine is convulsed with laughter and has to close the car window and turn away from the scene...). 

Undine:   "His name is Zhing Woo W., you bubblehead!  (Still laughing!) Isn't life grand?! Just a fine inaugural outing in the new but ongoing adventures of Goober Comestibles professionals!...  Maybe we should call ourselves, 'The Great Goober Gastronomic Team'! "

Ulmer:   "You know what I always say:  'Give the client what she or he wants, and put smiles on the faces of all and sundry... ' Is that a ding?  Where to, oh Chief delivery purveyor??!!..."

Undine:   "Hmmm...  Looks like a Mexican restaurant...  Las Uvas, or something like that...  Don't move!  Wait 'till Millie gives us directions!"  (The computerized voice of the GPS 'Goober' directions giver announces, 'Turn left, then turn right, then turn left, then make a U-turn, then arrive on your right, or, your left...' "  Undine and Ulmer call her Monotone Millie, sometimes Mechanical Mildred!) 

Ulmer:   "I'm getting hungry!  When can we eat our wrapped sandwiches?  Are there pickles...?"


(Special Note:   The perpetrator dedicates this writing to Bethie in honor of her milestone birthday, and to let her know how much he loves and honors her.  She is brave, strong, smart as the dickens and beautiful, an exemplary mother, sister and daughter, and he, the perpetrator, is privileged and always delighted to have her in his life!  Happy Birthday!!)

-- Humbly Submitted, 06-29-18 -- Joel K. 

Intrepid Geezer... The Quest for Pukeymans!

Memoirs of a Geezer!

Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth 

to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!

This Episode:          An Intrepid Geezer and the Quest for Pukeymans!

The intrepid Geezer examines his borrowed smartie phone
in an effort to figure out this Pukeymans game thing!

One likes to be a "now" sort of geezer, in touch with the times, hip, up to date on the latest bits of fads and foolishness.  As such, I went out looking for Pukeymans.  You know, that obsession with finding an imaginary or video-ized pretend character... or is he / she / it a pantomime creature?  Doesn't really matter, I suppose.  I'm on the hunt!

I walk over to the Park all the while staring at my borrowed cellular telephone device.  I start out with a Flippy Phone, but I'm told I have to use a smartie pants cellular device that has the capacity to load apes (simians?)...  um, apps (What does mean, "apps"?).  (People keep correcting me!)  Thusly, I had to borrow or steal a smartie phone thing for the adventure. 

So, I'm walking along staring at the device looking for Pukeymans, and first I walk into a tree. An arborial rodent throws an acorn at my head.  I walk on.  Then I inadvertently walk into a road in which motorists beep and honk and shout obscenities.  I adjust my trajectory!  

Image of an elderly man knocked flat;
not a precise image of the man
described herein, but used here to
illustrate the concept of a 
collapsed elderly man knocked flat!

I return to the Park.  Now I'm walking briskly, hurrying along. I crash into an elderly man whom I don't see as I'm staring at the smartie telecone, uh...  phone.  I knock him over.  He crashes to the earth and begins to mumble unintelligibly.  I offer to contact his next of kin if he'll give me a quarter for the call.  I take his smartie telephone, look under contacts and make a call. 

"Hello."
"Yes."
"Who's this?
"Who's this?" 
"Are you related to an elderly man with a wispy moostache who wears thick eyeglasses, a plaid tunic and bermuda shorts in various shades of orange, green and fuchsia?"
"Who the hell is this?!"
"I just bumped into your loved one who is now lying in a crumpled heap mumbling incoherently."
"Who the hell is this??!!"
"I can possibly give you the coordinates.  Do you have a pencil?  Can you reimburse me for my time?  I got needs!"  
"Who in the hell is this, you blabbering buffoon??!!"

"Dudes!!  I think I found
Pukeymans!"

I move on after stuffing the telephone back into a front pocket of the mumbling man on the ground in the bermuda shorts.  I only extract a quarter.  I'm no thief.  Next, still walking aimlessly whist staring at the smartie telephone screen looking for signs of Pukeymans, I step on the paw of a large dog who's apparently also on the quest. The dog sniffs and then throws up on one of my wingtips.  Another dog, a probable companion of the first dog, disgraces itself on another of my wingtips.  I move on, still apparently no closer to finding the elusive Pukeymans. 

As I walk along in the Park, I spy a youth holding what I think is a cellular device.  I

I don't think the elderly lady rolled
as far as the Lake!

excuse myself and say, "Hey, youth, I can't seem to find Pukeymans on my device. Whadayou think?  Can you help me figure how to do this game thing?" 

Snotty ageist youth kid!

The kid looks at my device and says, "Hey, it aint even turned on, you ridiculous old dope!"
I snatch the device from the kid and retort, "Gimme that, you snot-nosed little gutter snipe!"  

I back up away from the snotty kid; I'm still staring at the cellular smartie phone that allegedly has not actually been activated. I bump into an elderly lady.  She screams and falls over the bluff, rolling and shrieking as she tumbles through brambles and sharp sticks and shrubbery, cursing at me as I watch her roll further along down the precipice. 

"It wasn't my fault...   Pukeymans'es fault!" I shout after the woman, who's now gaining speed as she tumbles.  I turn to look at the gathering, gawking throng of Pukeymans chasers. Some have actually looked up from their devices.   

"Anybody got a rope?"  

Humbly Submitted 08-08-16 -- Joel K.