The Lost Granddaughter of Vincent Verizon and Other News

So I was on the phone with Verizon today trying to get another phone line and fax line to our house. I knew it was going to be a long painful process because I also had two or three other items on my agenda with Verizon which were unrelated to me setting up a home office. And you know what happens when you have more than one item you need to address with a customer service representative. Although it took me as long as I thought it would, I was actually quite impressed with this particular CSR's ability to deal with all my random issues while having to listen to me also give instructions to the kids (yes, you can make a giant book with that posterboard; no, you cannot glue your brother into it like he's a pop-up feature).

But she also had this quirky thing. See, I normally complain that people, particularly customer service reps, don't take "ownership" of their jobs and instead, detach themselves from the reality that what they do (disconnect you) and more often, refuse to do (actually solve your problem), affects someone. But this Verizon woman today, God bless her, she took ownership. Either she owns a lot of stock in Verizon (is Verizon even publicly held?) or she is the great-great-granddaughter of Vincent Verizon and is being trained to take over at the helm in a year or two. For example, when I asked her if we could trade in one of our regular set-top boxes for one of those new HD DVR numbers, she said, "I see you've seen my commercial." And when I asked her about the installation charges for the new phone lines, she said, "I charge $100 for the first line and $50 for the second." When I asked her when the installation would be, she said, "I'll send my team out on Tuesday." And get this, before we hung up, she gave me her "secret" phone number, instructed me not to give it to anyone else, and wondered aloud at how I had been connected to her in the first place. I'm pretty sure I was talking to Veronica Verizon herself.

I realize I haven't been keeping you as updated as I normally do with all the latest Flamingo news, so we need to catch up a little bit. For the past couple of Saturdays, we have worked pretty diligently on the downstairs office, trying to get it ready for me to be a solo practitioner.

We have finished off the ceiling, textured the walls, and painted the walls and ceiling. You know me well enough by now to know that when I say "we" I normally mean, well, Joe. In this case, I did do quite a bit of the wall painting, with my friend Dez' help, and I had started painting the ceiling with Dez when Casey came in the room saying Grandma needed me to come to her. When I got to Grandma, she was laying on the concrete with a gash in the back of her head and barely coherent. Marginally controlled chaos ensued as we tried to figure out what happened (Grandma couldn't tell us) and Grandma and I ended up in the ER for three hours. Grandma couldn't remember if she fell or if she fainted so she got bumped to the top of the CAT scan list, because she was considered a "head trauma." We sat in the little curtained cubicle dreading the results -- would it be a stroke? a burst blood vessel? a heart thing? When the doc came to give us the results, he said nothing was wrong with Grandma and that she may have fainted because she had low potassium. He gave her a potassium pill, shot two staples in her head (that does hurt, by the way, no matter what the guy tells you), and sent us home.

On Sunday, we held the 2nd Annual Super Bowl Soirree at our house. Here's how we set up to watch the game:

And here's how everyone looked with their silly 3-D glasses on:

You can do Super Bowl on the porch in Florida, but it's still a bit of a risk, weather-wise. By the end of the game, everyone was wrapped up in a blanket because the temps had dipped into the low 60s (I know, poor us). It felt like we were actually at the game because, you know, the game was taking place about three miles away -- only we had grilled teriyaki chicken thighs to eat, a fantastic buffalo chicken dip (thanks, Cindy!), and all the hot chocolate we could drink.

Other than that, the only other news of note is that Trashy Angel has changed wardrobes again and you will never guess what she is now! I haven't gotten a picture of her yet, but I'll post one asap.