Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Patches

I’ve hit one of those patches where things aren’t going as planned—nothing severe, mind, I can distinguish the trivial from the important—it’s just that I’m stymied wherever I turn.

I want to replace the carpet, but before I schedule an installation date, the walls and ceiling must be painted (I can do the walls myself, but the ceiling requires special equipment). I’ve called painters, who promise an estimate by a certain date but won’t put forward even that modest effort, even after several reminder calls. Of course I won’t make the mistake of engaging these people, but there’s no satisfaction as the ratty carpet continues to mock me.

I’ve called a gardener, whom two of my neighbors rave about, to estimate the cost of a small clean-up project. He seems like a nice, energetic fellow, but he’s broken a weekend appointment and ignored two of my follow-up phone calls. I intended to use him, but now...

The exterior of our house needs to be cleaned and sealed, and we’ve reached agreement with a reputable contractor to perform this job, but first we must repair a crack in our chimney. On the advice of a neighbor we’ve been trying to contact a man who would probably do good work but we’ve been unable to communicate with him (he did leave a message once, so we know he’s still in business.)

A generation ago the epitome of futility (has a certain ring to it, nicht wahr?) was the maiden who sat by her silent phone on Saturday night. Today it’s the frustrated suburbanite who waits...and waits...for his contractor to call, fax, or e-mail. An in-person visit would trigger the vapors.

At work there are several tasks that are on hold because of crucial information that other people have to prepare and send. Because these people are colleagues and customers, I can’t be too obnoxious and so am limited to offering gentle reminders through the usual channels.

My Hawaiian vacation starts tomorrow and no progress will be made on any of the above for two weeks. Feeling beset and bewildered, and occasionally angry, by the (in)action of others, I bestirred myself from my usual torpor in the pew on Sunday to listen to the words of a long-ago Sermon:
Every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother shall be liable to the council, and whoever says, “You fool!” shall be liable to the hell of fire. [Matt 5: 22]

Message noted. Let it go. Let it all go. © 2004 Stephen Yuen

Palm trees thrive in Hawaii. In cool San Francisco these palms along the Embarcadero were imported and have to be carefully nurtured. But they don't have coconuts that can hit you on the head.

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