Story of the Day 1/ 12/ 2012

Sarah was sitting nicely at her desk in English class. Except that it wasn't English class, yet, because the bell hadn't rung. It was still a couple of minutes until....

A girl came over and waved at her.
Sarah didn't know the girl, but she waved back. After all, it usually doesn't hurt to pretend to be friendly. I mean sociable.

The girl became very excited. She smiled and waved her arms around a bit, and then she starts talking very animatedly and hurriedly to the interpreter, "She understood me! She waved back! She understood I meant 'hello!'"
So do most untrained monkeys, but...

Sarah said, "Yes, waving is also a way of saying 'Hello' in sign language."

The girl continued on in her excited vein, this time speaking to Sarah, while the interpreter interpreted.
"I want to learn sign language and then I can be your friend and you won't be alone!"

Of course, Sarah is never "alone". Sarah has her retinue.
She has two trained adults following her around from place to place.

Well, actually more like 4 trained adults.
There is the interpreter, and 3 different people who type for the speech to text service that she has in 4 classes.
Oh yes, and she actually has some friends, but we probably should be nice and not spoil the young lady's image of herself as....
"And you look just like Hellen Keller!"
Huh?

The girl explains that Sarah looks like Helen Keller in the movie- with her curly hair.
I am fervently hoping that the girl realizes that this was an actress playing the part of Helen Keller.
But you know, all of those blind people look the same.
I mean deaf people. They all look alike. Right?

Story of the Day 1/ 21/ 2012

Yesterday, we received an invitation in the mail.

Since we are not especially popular or sociable people, this is an unusual occurrence.
Allright, let me rephrase that, I am not popular, and neither of us is sociable.

To be honest, my husband's favorite past time is to sit in the dining room and chuckle to himself.
He spends a lot of time sitting in the dining room. That is where he does his reading.
He has found that the chairs are neither hideously uncomfortable enough to preclude sitting on them for long periods of time, nor are they comfortable enough to fall asleep when he is doing his medical reading.

The chuckling, however, is not the result of either his medical reading nor his Torah studies, it is a product of his writing.
You see, my husband, like me , has a blog. The big difference is that his is a "real" blog and he is paid for it.
His is, also, indubitable more socially acceptable. And you d not even need to know him to have guessed that.
My husband writes columns for medical magazines. Some are for the actual magazines and some are for the blogs they have.

This next detail is something that you will not be able to guess unless you have already seen one of his columns.

You see, despite the fact that my husband is a brilliant and wonderful medical practitioner, his columns are not about the science of medicine, or about creating a better practice management setup. They are also not about the troublesome side effects his patients have as a result of the medications he prescribes.
This is good because if the columns were about those things, it would be a mite unsettling to hear him chuckling over them.
They are medical satire.

So my husband is a paid, professional blogger.
Another difference between us is that he writes many of his drafts out in long-hand, while I continue to mis-type my drafts. So his favorite thing to do is to sit in the dining room and chuckle to himself as he writes; and my favorite thing is to sit on the incredibly much more comfortable sofa in the family room and read.

At any rate, the idea of leaving our house to behave in a sociable manner is.....painful.
But we do.
On rare occasion.
For people we really like.

And this invitation was from someone we really like , or , more correctly, for someone we really like.
It is for the 80th birthday celebration of a dear friend I have known since I was a small child.

My husband read the card and remarked to me, " Wow, she has the same birthday that you do!"

A small detail that makes her one of the few people whose birthdays I recall with exactly zero struggle.

I responded," Yes, amazingly, that has been true for as many years as I have known her."

Story of the Day 1/ 19/ 2012

My son has decided to give up his day job. Well, not really, because it is his night job, or his evening job or whatever.

Aaron used to have a regular gig doing stand-up comedy.
He was even funny.

He would tell a variety of jokes .

In the beginning, they were mostly about his experiences with the special education system, or with being deaf.
Later, he included a variety of jokes based on his job hunting experiences.

Then there was the long stream of more recent dirty jokes.
I wince somewhat , as I write this. I am, after all, his mother.

This is my cute baby boy we are discussing, the one who used to run around in his Batman pajamas.
Well, he still does run around in his Batman pajamas, except that , at 6' 2", he saunters.

When religion hit, I mean when he became more religious, he decided it was not a good thing for him to be telling dirty jokes.
Apparently, it was still okay for him to go to these bars , but the jokes were cleaned up.
I thought this was wonderful, after all, this is my baby boy we are discussing. I would like to pretend his sense of humor is still PG...or maybe PG-13, with a stricter parent than I am providing the rating standards.

Unfortunately, instead of going back to his deaf and jobless jokes, he decided that he was going to start telling puns.
Even I thought the dirty jokes were better.

Then, when he went off to yeshivah, in Israel, where his opportunities to do standup were...well, rather limited since he doesn't' speak Hebrew, he gave it up completely.

He has even convinced himself that he is no longer funny.
Actually, I think that happened when he started doing the puns, and , to be honest, that was NOT funny.

But I still can close my eyes and picture him doing standup.
Okay, I can't close my eyes and do that because I have to keep my eyes open to read the letters he sends me.

I recently received one , and the back page described his interactions at a party he was planning on attending:


" This Thursday , I am planning on going to B'Nei Brak for a Deaf Hanukkah Party! WOWZERS!
Don't worry, I'll probably just stand in a corner silently devouring as many jelly filed doughnuts I can lay my hands on.

If confronted by any socialsim ( talking, not politics) I'll smile and nod my head pretending I understand.

Considering how hard it is for me to understand Deaf people in American Sign Language, I don't' stand a chance in ISL (Isreali Sign Language).
Of course, I can say the Hebrew alphabet, but that isn't' very helpful if you don't' actually know any Hebrew words.
Don't worry! I had the ultimate response in ISL, "Baruch HaShem!" ( Praise God!)

A Deaf person can ask any question or make any comment and that's the response I can sign.

Example

Deaf Man: "How are you?"
Me: " Baruch HaShem!"

Deaf Man: "Are you enjoying the party?"
Me:"Baruch HaShem!"

Deaf Man: "So, where are you from?"
Me: "Baruch HaShem!"

Deaf Man: " Do you want to buy some drugs?"
Me: "Baruch HaShem!"

Deaf Man: "Oh, there's my wife. See you later!"
Me: "Baruch Hashem!"


Okay, I inserted the line about drugs.

Story of the Day 1/ 9 / 2012

My son was enjoying another wonderful Shabbat meal.
He had been invited to eat with a family.
During the meal, the wife asked him, "Are you married?"
My son replied, " No, I am not."
"Well, would you be interested in a deaf girl?"
Fortunately, Aaron doest' have a bad image of deaf people. This is good for a couple of reasons, one of which is that he happens to be deaf. So he replied, " that would fine."

The woman spent a moment or two thinking about whom she could introduce to my son. Apparently, she wasn't very thrilled with the young ladies that came to her mind.
She added," But the deaf girls are all modern ." This being lower down on the acceptability scale than just regular orthodox. At least in her mind.
" What about a girl with a different problem?"

I can see it now, it will be great marriage. They can fix Aaron up with a nice orthodox ( G-d forbid modern !) young lady who is blind. She can speak, and he can sign. No communication would be just great, obviously: they wouldn't' understand if the other one was screaming at them.

Or maybe........

I told my husband about this over dinner.
"What problem?"
Okay, he didn't' say that, he actually said, "Well, what did Aaron tell her?"

Wow, I hadn't thought to ask that.

I emailed Aaron, "What did you say to her?"

I woud like to think that he was polite. I have spent a couple of decades trying to beat some politeness into each of my children, with some limited success. But, as the mother of two deaf children who have problems, especially Aaron, but not one of those problems happens to be the fact that they are deaf, I was kind of hoping he'd given her a very....."amusing" answer.

Aaron's response was:

hmmm...i don't think i really said anything.

it was more like a nod of the head and i kept eating food.


Now, the story is, already , strange enough, but my son just informed me in another email that the woman's husband- the man at whose house he was eating ...that man is deaf.

Since the wife isn't, I am wondering what her " problem" is.
Please let me know , if you figure this out.
I will not be holding my breath.

Story of the Day 1/ 15/ 2012

Mice.

Yes, I was speaking with Aaron and the topic came up.
Again.

There are still mice in the dorm, despite the cats that some of the students have imported from the streets and alleys near the yeshivah, despite the $70 worth of fancy mouse traps that Aaron’s mother mailed off to Israel ( she is including postage costs in that hefty estimate), despite the two mouse traps that Aarons’ mother sent off with Rabbi Cowen when he went to visit his brother in Sfat, and which Aaron took the bus to collect. ( Okay, he also took the bus because when went to visit Rabbi Cowen’s brother, also known as Rabbi Cowen, he went to visit and to eat well.)

Despite all of these measures, (oh, and how could I have forgotten the Nike shoe-box catch and release trap? ).... Despite all these measures, the mice are still scampering happily around the yeshivah. And there have been complaints.

About the mice.



As it turns out, Aaron was not the only student bothered by the mice.

Nor was Aaron- the other Aaron, who is Aaron’s roommate- this Aaron being the one who was awakened by a mouse scampering over his face at 3 AM, the only other student bothered by the mice.

Other students, some of whom may have even had names other than Aaron, have been complaining. Not just catching cats and buying their own mousetraps, but complaining.



So, This Sunday, an exterminator arrived.

He went through the yeshivah, or at least through the dorm, and while in Aaron’s room, he told Aaron and Aaron that the traps were better positioned against the baseboard. You see, in addition to my son’s learning disability, the one where the word that is printed “ REEBOK” is read as the word “Nike”, my son was somehow unable to read the instructions that came with the mouse traps. Those being the instructions that tell you to place the traps by the baseboards, along the wall.



In addition to repositioning the mouse traps, the exterminator also spread rat poison throughout the dorm.

I am sure this is causing a bit of unease with the rabbi who made the catch and release trap from the" Nike" shoe box. To be honest, it is bothering me a bit, as well.

You see, there are two basic kinds of rat poison.

There is the kind that most people use.

The rats and mice eat it. It causes them to die.

The problem is that it causes them to go back to their nests and die.

And then it starts to smell.

Really bad.

Really, really bad.

Of course, eventually, the smell goes away.



The other kind causes the rats and mice to go out in search of water. In that case they tend to die out in search of water, outside, in a visible area, not inside the walls or the crawlspace or the…..and the smell Is not in the bedrooms and classrooms and cafeteria.

Unfortunately, this second kind of poison is not the kind that is usually used.



Aaron, after all, is deaf. That means his ears do not work.

He is , however, Jewish, and he has a very fine nose that does work.



I think my next box will contain a supply of nose plugs. For Aaron . And Aaron .

Story of the Day 1/ 8/ 2012

It was the 6th phone call that got to me. Not the first nor the second nor the third......Of course, two of them were made necessary because I had been disconnected. From customer support. From Apple.

At the start of the first phone call, the woman speaking with me asked for my telephone number, in case we were disconnected.
We weren't.
She was even able to help me with the first part of the problem. but not with the second. She transferred me to someone who specializes in that kind of an issue. And that person transferred me to someone else who specialized in what he didn't specialize in.
That third guy, well he was the third person, but the second guy, told me to use iDVD. This is because we couldn't get the dvd to burn.
Okay, we could. We being Sarah. I am merely the person stuck making all of the phone calls.
That is because I can hear ,all-be-it poorly. Sarah cannot. She is profoundly deaf.
We have a videophone, and, theoretically, she can use it to call customer support, and then the person at technical support can act like a total idiot about using the relay interpreter.
But Sarah cannot do that because our videophone is not working . Well, it is working, but like many things that we touch, it works....sort of. We can get phone calls. We just can't make them.
Of course, we also cannot actually get any phone calls on the videophone unless you call us on the voice phone and ask us to turn the videophone on, or text us on one of the cell phones, or maybe even email us.
That is because Sarah is so popular that she gets 25-30 calls a day, from the same person, if we leave it on. So to avoid thinking violent thoughts, we leave it turned off.
Unless you use one of those other methods to contact us.
And don't worry, the person calling her doesn't' read my blog.
And Aaron isn’t here , right now, and , to be honest. Although he can speak on a telephone ( rather well, in fact) he s also deaf and usually he cannot hear very much on it.

Because of this, I am the one stuck making the phone calls to Technical Support, even though I struggle to hear some of the tech support people and even though I break out in hives if I get within 5 feet of the new computer.

And I have to explain to the tech support person that I will be inter petering for my kid, and they need to be a bit patient for this process.
As you can see, we are not popular. The tech support people were probably just transferring me around because they were freaked out by this whole process, which is why we really need to get the videophone fixed, so they can really get freaked out.

"What do you mean you are interpreting for someone using ASL, I can't see you, so how can you be doing that?"
So, the third tech support person- and this was still just the first phone call- told me to use iDVD. Which I tried to do.
Unfortunately, I tried to do this AFTER he had hung up.
It didn't' work.
We tried this and tried that and tried the other thing, because the guy from Apple said to do it.
And finally, frustrated, I called back.

"Oh, we just got an email about that a few days ago!" Said person number 5, during phone call number 2. ( Well, he was the fifth person altogether, but only the second one during the second call), "You have to use..." And he named a different program. Movie Gate? Video Gate? Something like that. Don't' expect my brain to retain this. Especially since neither of the two programs the guy told me to use worked.
Of course, it took another hour to figure that out.
It took downloading them, transferring the files, and trying to burn a workable dvd.

Phone call number three ....I was disconnected.

Phone call number four, the mechanized system, computerized system that was developed by a sadist refused to recognize my speech. Over and over and over. " If you mean P" press one". "If you mean B, press 2", But I didn't' mean either of those. I kept starting again and starting again and starting again.
I hung up, after about 6 times around.

Phone call number five. The guy again asked me for my contact phone number. This was good, because about 7 minutes into the conversation, or less, we were disconnected.
So I hung up, and sat and waited to be called back.
And waited.
And waited.

Maybe he doesn't hear well, either, and he wrote down the wrong number.
At any rate, it gradually dawned on me that I was not going to be called back, at least not during the next 100 days of the warranty.

Phone call number 6, and I have now totally lost track of how many people I have spoken to, but the guy I ended up being transferred to looked up my computer's serial number, and it turns out the computer isn't registered to me.
Gee, I know that.
I bought it. I paid for it.
My charge card was used.

But it is my kids'. Aaron's' and Sarah's. Aaron's because he needs a computer for college classes, and an iMac specifically for video editing, assuming he is going to do that again, at some point,( now that he is 6 months behind in captioning the one video),and Sarah who is trying to use it, right now, during break to do a project...that has to be mailed on Monday morning, tomorrow.
Okay, not really, it could also be mailed tomorrow afternoon.

And a program was purchased, at the same time, from Apple. Actually, a few were. Some sort of word program and another video editing program and one that burns dvds. Do not ask me about this- remember, I am not allowed within 5 feet of the computer unless I have a lot of Benadryl handy.

I explain that I paid for the computer, and I give my children's last name.

And, for the second time, I explain why he gets to speak to me. I am wondering if he wants me to mail him a copy of their audiograms.

"Deaf- you know, can't hear for shit, especially on the phone because it is hard to read your lips."

No.
It isn't registered to them, either.

I tell him I have the order information. I pull it up on my email account. I have saved all of those important things. That and a lot of spam, as well.
I read him the order number.
It is not my computer. It is not my kids' computer. His records do not match.
Of course, he cannot tell me WHOSE computer this is, but it is not ours.
Because it is not ours, he cannot speak to me, he cannot provide us with technical support. At least, he is very polite about this.

I get his email address at work.
This is hard.
I can't hear for shit, although, compared to my kids, my hearing is incredibly much like a super-power.

I tell him, after he has said his name a couple of times and spelled it that he needs to tell me a word for each letter, because I cannot figure out what letters he is saying. I can hear the "I and the "A", and a consonant. One consonant.
He is wondering what sort of a crazy lady he has on the phone. I tell him that in 40 years, when he is an old fart who has listened to too much loud music, he will understand.
I never listened to loud music, of course, but I have those popular genes- and not the kind that are blue.

He spells it again, giving me a word for each letter.
I send him a copy of the email from Apple that says that I and only I ordered and paid for the damned computer.
In the meanwhile, he is not supposed to help me figure out what to do with the computer, since it isn't mine, or my kids' and I have no right to be calling technical support for help.

But he will make an exception, this one time. Especially since the correct program is on the computer that we do not own.

At this point, we are several hours into calling Apple, the kids have run off, and it is little old me in front of the computer.
And I am NOT touching anything!

I tell him I am writing it all down on a piece of paper for them to follow, later, and to go slowly.

He does.

I write it down.

When Sarah gets home, about 29 minutes later, she stares at the paper.

It was written down carefully, but my handwriting is illegible to normal people, and to her, even though there is no chance that she is normal, be real, because she is my relative.

So I read it to her.
And she follows my poorly signed instructions.
And it works.
On the computer that apparently someone else owns.

Don’t worry, I thanked the guy.

He also said that he would get back to me, or that someone would, to get this straightened out. About who owns or doesn’t own the computer that I paid for and that is suiting here, and that I am typing on.
A
It is odd.
I mean, if someone buys something using credit card number- without my authorization- you know, like when someone stole my credit card number and bought 21 laptops, I did not end up paying for the goods. I made a report, and it was taken care of.

Actually, the credit card company called me, they were a tad suspicious as to why I would want 21 laptops from 21 different businesses ( one from each) shipped to a country in Africa. Because of this they opted to call me instead of just authorizing the payments.

But, in this case, I used the card, I bought the computer, it is sitting here, but Apple says it isn't ours, so we are not entitled to technical support ( and probably not to service under the warranty) , because we do not own it.
I doubt I can call the Apple Tech Support about that, but............

I suppose if I was being really mean, I would put Aaron or Sarah on the phone with them.

Story of the Day 1/ 13/ 2012

Mice have been a topic of numerous Stories of the Day since my beloved little boy. Aaron, has been studying at the Ohr Somayach yeshivah in Jerusalem.

Apparently, at the yeshivah, mice are an endangered species, and instead of killing them, they are to be caught in the yeshivah's mouse trap and then released into the wild.
The wild is the area near the trash cans outside of the yeshivah.

The yeshivah has a very special trap made just for this propose. This trap also serves a second necessary purpose- which is especially important because it doesn't' work very well at trapping mice because the latch fails to be released most of the time.
this second purpose is to test for learning disabilities.
This is the trap that my son kept telling me, for several weeks, was made from a Nike shoebox.
Obviously, he ( my son, not the mouse) has an unusual kind of dyslexia.

As for the mouse update.......well, they still have some, but none have run over Aaron's or Aaron's ( his roommate also having the same first name) face the middle of the night.
There are also now some dorm cats that have been imported by some very resourceful students.
I didn't' have Aaron ask them if any mice had run over their faces in the middle of the night, but something obviously prompted them to import these cats from their previously feral positions on the streets of Jerusalem.

Story of the Day 1/ 10/ 2012

Ely had driven off into the sunset, although, it was actually the sunrise, headed back to New York, and we were all missing him.

Unfortunately, we were not missing his phone recharger. I found what looked like it, about 12 hours after he had left.



We were also not missing his hat, or his gloves.



Fortunately, Binghamton has been having a balmy spell, and those were not as sorely needed as they usually are, at this time of year.

Being the wonderful mother that I am, ( and I keep repeating this phrase with frequency hoping that it will fool my children into believing that is one of the “Great Truths”) I packaged these things, and a nice shiny stainless steel water bottle up , stuck a label on it, and drove off to the post office.

As I was standing in line, I started thinking….and I couldn’t’ quite remember putting the phone charger into the box.

Had I or hadn’t I?



Relying on my memory is a bit like believing that “ read my lips” joke. Oh , wait, he didn’t mean it as a joke….

If you are under the age of …well, too young to remember the Republican National Convention of 1988, look it up. That is why God made Google, so you can look it up. That is another one of those “Great Truths”. At least, it is in my house.



So, to get back to the phone charger and whether or not I had put it in the box I was ready to mail….. I had no idea.

At least, I had not squandered gas on a wasted trip to the post office, since I was also there to mail those other important items: Sarah’s dvd…also a topic of numerous stories of the day, bound for the NTID/RIT competition, and the form and $60 filing fee for US Tax court, made necessary because my old employer didn’t send a corrected 1099 to the IRS, despite the email from them saying they had. Oh wait, maybe that is one of those other “Great Truths” about the check, I mean form, being in the mail…..



So, I sent the other important items off, and I drove home and looked around and, behold…..the phone charger was still sitting , unboxed, on the counter.

It must be waiting for Ely’s next visit.



But I will be a good mother, I will open up the box and put it INSIDE, retape it and take it off to the post office. Maybe even tomorrow.

If I remember.

Story of the Day 12/23/2011

I recently had a friend over for tea. We spent the better part of an hour discussing doing laundry.

About hot water and cold water and enzymes that are in Tide with bleach alternative- which is wonderful at removing stains, but if you use hot water, then it doesn’t’ work, and how I am planning on making my own laundry detergent.

You see, I saw a video about it on YouTube. YouTube and Facebook, of course, are major sources for the news and for life skills.

At least for me.

So, you can make your own laundry detergent very inexpensively.

But the minor drawback is that you need two 5 gallon buckets for mixing it. And you need several hundred empty laundry jugs for storing it.

I am working on one of the 5 gallon buckets. That is because there was a terrific rebate on buying one filled with dry detergent. It ended up costing about $1.10 more than buying the bucket empty. And it came with all of that detergent.....

Of course, it may take me 6 months to use up that detergent. And another six to get another 5 gallon tub, and then another year to save the empty laundry detergent jugs. And…….

You might think that the only thing I learned while having tea with my friend was how long this is going to take me.

No, I actually realized something that is infinitely more valuable, although, I am also not sure what I will do with this information.

I have learned that I am a very boring friend.