The new shoe department at Saks Fifth Avenue is so big that it's getting its own ZIP code.
The Manhattan store is revamping its shoe department, and when it moves from the fourth floor to an 8,500-square-foot space on the eighth floor in August, customers will be able to send mail to 10022-SHOE.
If I ran my business this way, I'd be "separated from the company" immediately for poor planning and decision-making.....(if you're here to figure out what you can do about your last chance letter, you now have until May 25th to respond).
Remember my mention of my little snafu with the NH EZ Pass system? It turns out that my little snafu was only one of 23,000 New Hampshire violations that EZ Pass decided to clear up with a "Last Chance Notice." 23,000 letters sent; no time allowed for response and no action by EZ Pass to move resources to handle the call volume/customer response that this mailing created. (Someone should lose their job over this; really.)
Those 23,000 letters were dated May 2, 2007 . We received our letter in the mail on the 11th of May (according to our housesitter), but I didn't open the letter until May 14th, when we returned from Ohio.
The letter was incredibly vague. I might 1) not ever have responded to the violations notice; 2) not paid the tolls; or 3) fought the violations and EZ Pass decided to reject my explanation. There was no clue as to which of the three it was. If they'd rejected my explanation, I might have just paid the fines and moved on, but I had no idea if that was the case.
The letter stated that I must respond within 15 days of the date on the letter. Not 15 days of receipt of the letter, mind you, and I had three options to do so: 1) by calling EZ Pass; 2) by faxing a written response to EZ Pass; or 3) by appearing in person at one of the three New Hampshire Customer Care Walk-In Centers.
I waited on hold for 55 minutes. No answer. I tried to fax a response to the number given for three hours. The line was busy for three hours. At 3:45 pm, I decided to drive to Seabrook to talk to the Customer Care Specialist in person. I left the fax on the fax machine, still auto-redialing.
As I passed through the Hampton Toll EZ Pass lane, the light went red and did not record my toll. This is precisely what happens approximately 50% of the time when I pass through the Hampton toll; the other 25% of the time, it flashes yellow and asks me to call EZ Pass. 25% of the time, it seems to work......
Anyway, I get to the center. There is a line of 12 people standing outside. There are 3 inside.
The gentleman ahead of me was fighting a violation from June 2006, that he'd already paid. The gentleman two ahead of me had $400.00 in fines because of an expired credit card on his Maine EZ Pass (which is the cause of $100.00 of my $200.00 worth of fines). After waiting 30 minutes, a man comes out of the building, smiles at us and says, "Good luck. I waited in line for an hour before I talked to someone. There are only two women in there and one of them just took lunch."
Took lunch? It's now 4:45. The center closes at 6 pm. At this rate, there's a good chance that I might not even talk to someone before they close. Hmmmm.
As we get closer to the door, we notice a sign posted. It says that if we want to fight the fines, we must respond in writing and while they are happy to forward our response to the main EZ Pass Center in New Jersey, they can't clear this up today. There is a pad of paper provided inside for us to write our response.
The Mainer (two ahead of me), mutters under his breath and I hear "lawyer, yank my chain, bullsh*t...". I decide to wait to talk to her anyway.
At about 5:10 a gentleman gets out of a car holding a cell phone to his ear. He asks how long we've waited in line and tells us he's been on hold with EZ Pass for 1 hour, 45 minutes. He snaps the phone shut and announces "I'll go to jail before I wait one minute more for these people. I've done nothing wrong here." He leaves.
Finally at 5:15 the woman comes back from lunch. The other woman leaves on a break. Sighs, panic, and disbelief ensue.
At 5:25 pm, I get to talk to the really nice lady (no sarcasm, she was wonderful) who took the first lunch break. I tell her that part of this is caused by the fact that the Hampton tolls rarely register my transponder--they didn't today on the way here, I tell her.
Last year, after six months of getting the yellow light and dutifully calling and being told, I'm OK, I stopped calling. I figured I was OK. She checks the license plate numbers, she checks the battery and says she has no idea why this would happen.....
She looks at my violations. She tells me she has no idea if they rejected my response, did not receive my response or if I didn't pay the tolls owed. I show her the cancelled check that they cashed for the toll payments. She sighs and says the best she can do is overnight my handwritten letter to them and log that I'm disagreeing with the information in the letter. They'll get back to me. She's sorry the letter is so vague and that she doesn't know where my violations stand.
I drive north on 95. As I pass through the Hampton tolls, I get a yellow light and I'm told to call Maine EZ Pass. I do. I get an answer from them on the second ring. She tells me I've got money in the account, the battery is fine. I'm all set, have a nice day......
According to this article, the deadline for response to the letter has been moved to May 25th. EZ Pass also has shifted resources to make sure calls are answered. I do know that if they reject my explanation for why I don't owe the fees and fines, I'm going to bill them back for time I've spent (due to their incompetence), at the hourly rate of $75.00 an hour. Grand total-- $329.89.
I move to retire Live Free or Die. The New State motto is: New Hampshire EZ?--not so much.
This post is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. I've gotten my second black fly bite of the spring--very unusual for our area, as we live in very southern Maine and the nasty buggers (as Amy called them) just aren't a huge problem for us. All fine and well. I can live with a black fly bite or two, but I can't believe what happened this morning.
We woke around 5:45 , as usual. I feel that my right eye has a lot of what my grandmother used to call "sleepy dirt". While still lying on my back in bed , I dig the sleepy dirt out of the corner of my eye and notice it contains a black lump of something. It appears to be a huge clump of mascara--highly unlikely as I didn't put mascara on yesterday (the Maine office is very casual), and I'd washed my face before going to bed. This requires further investigation (and my glasses).
Upon closer inspection, it is identified as a dead deer tick. IN MY EYEBALL? Gross. Exceedingly, terribly, really, really gross. Disconcerting, icky, just wrong, wicked bad and skanky. Evidence below (you may click to enlarge the grossness, if you like): 
I know this for a fact, as I counted 8 hat boxes being lugged through the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky airport.
Each was carried by a man dressed in a blue button down shirt, gold buttoned double breasted blazer, khaki pants and either boat shoes or driving mocs.
The man was accompanied by a very thin blonde (I did spot a brunette, once) woman, dressed in a sleeveless sundress and very fashionable shoes. Evidently, this is the hat box uniform. I'll keep it in mind should I ever get a hat that requires a hat box. My baseball caps generally travel in my suitcase and arrive none the worse for it.
As I passed the hat box couples, I could overhear snippets of conversation:
"We're meeting Bill and Nancy at the club for drinks at 6:30. I hear the Andersons will be there, so be nice."
"The syndicate thinks he's past prime and they'd like to sell him. I think he's got good earning potential."
"Honestly, two hats? Why did you have to bring two hats?"
"It's an awful field. He actually might give it a good run for it."
Not for nothing: The Queen looks very old. I know she's 82 or 100 or somewhere thereabouts, but I've always thought of her as timeless.
We're ready to begin Cinco de Mayo fiesta preparations. We should have about 75 or so this year, but it's always hard to know. All recipes will posted tomorrow or Sunday or sometime later this week.
"Because you know how these things go," Shipman told detectives. "Isaid, `Is there gonna be some crazy lady showing up at my door, tryingto kill me?' He said, `No ... she's not like that. She's fine with it. She's happy for me.'"Don't you find it bizarre that Shipman would worry about another girlfriend--a NASA astronaut, at that-- trying to kill her? Even in complicated situations would that thought ever cross your mind? Probably not unless you'd done something really slimy, right? Something that caused you to feel really guilty? Something that if the positions were reversed might cause you to act out in a crime of passion?
So, if Bill Oefelein's mother knows about their relationship and is "supporting" Lisa Nowak's relationship with her son, and if this is really all true then methinks Bill Oefelein is a slimeball womanizer who needs to resign from the space program immediately. As an anonymous commenter said yesterday,.....undated letter to Oefelein's mother in which Nowak wrote that she was taking steps to divorce her husband so she could be with Oefelein.
"Bill is absolutely the best person I've ever known and I love him more than I knew possible," Nowak wrote. Nowak thanked Oefelein's mother for supporting her relationship with Oefelein, "especially since my parents are not as supportive right now."
I don't get why working professionals don't get it. Not just in America, but across the world. Mixing work and pleasure is like mixing government and religion. It all sounds good until someone gets hurt. Anyone with a remotely adequate range of emotions knows this. I am going to post here with sincere and educated belief that Oefelein is also at serious fault and at least partially culpable for Nowak's actions. I have not read ANYTHING about this attempted kidnapping that points this out. Oefelein's decision to bring romance into the workplace was selfish and purposeful. An ex-marine knows how to control their heart with their mind, and therefor I have no doubt of the intentionality of Oefelein 's actions.
I've woken up frazzled and frayed, made so by a relentless wind. A wind that kept us awake most of the night. It started late in the evening and hasn't let up, not even at the dawn.
The gusts beat at the windows and they make the wind chime clang relentlessly. I now hate the sound of the Pemaquid Buoy.
It sounds like a locomotive as it roars through the trees and the pines near the driveway sway and bend viciously with each gust. Pine needles and small branches litter the driveway and yard, making the snow look dirty and tired and old. When they hit the windows, they remind me of zombie fingers, tapping to be let in. Every so often a particularly viscious gust slaps the side of the house like a wave crashing over a breakwater. It is relentless.
Our thermometer reads -3. The wind chill is -23. It is March 6. There is no precipitation with this system, just sun and blue sky and a cold, cold wind. It's been a long winter.
A cup of coffee might de-fray and unfrazzle me, but I rather doubt that. It might be a day for pulling covers back over the head, with earbuds in and volume turned to high.
Grrr. Did I already say that?
On March 5th 1673, Virginia enacted the first temperance law.
On March 5th 1770, five men were shot to death in Boston town by British soldiers. Precipitating the event known as the Boston Massacre was a mob of men and boys taunting a sentry standing guard at the city's customs house. When other British soldiers came to the sentry's support, a free-for-all ensued and shots were fired into the crowd.
On March 5th, 1963 Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas and Hankshaw Hawkins were killed in a plane crash at Camden, TN, near Nashville. The famous country music stars were returning from a benefit performance. Cline, the ‘Queen of Country Music’ was elected to the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1973. Jessica Lange played Patsy in the 1985 biographical film, Sweet Dreams, named after one of Cline’s hugely popular songs. Willie Nelson wrote her biggest hit, Crazy, which become a number one country hit and a top 10 pop song in November, 1961.
Also on March 5th 1963, the hoola hoop was patented and the Reverend Dr. and his wife gave birth to their first child, a girl weighing 4 lbs 14 oz.
In the past 14 days, there have been 12 fires in York and Cumberland Counties that the Red Cross have responded to. They have helped 23 people in that time. Now, they need help.Winters are always busy times for the disaster relief teams of the Red Cross, but Director Shawna Chigro-Rogers says this winter has been exceptionaly busy.
Since the beginning of the year, the American Red Cross of Southern Maine has gone to 23 fires and helped 211 people. That has cost the agency $11,500.
"We really need financial support for the expenses that have been put into servicing our clients in those areas," said Chigro-Rogers.
Donations can be made to:
American Red Cross of Southern Maine
2401 Congress St.
Portland, ME 04102
This story leaves so many unanswered questions and is wrong on so many levels:
Claude Van Tassel doesn't want to come home.Seems he's done this once before, as well:
It was nearly five years ago that the well-known auctioneer from Lyman, Maine, and father of 12 went missing while shopping at the Dover Ames store with his wife. Van Tassel told her he was going to get a cup of coffee — and was never heard from again.
"He has asked that his location not be given out because he does not want to be found," said Interim Police Chief Anthony Colarusso. "In essence we have a person who has been missing of his own volition since 2002, but he is healthy, he is alive and well in Pennsylvania. At this stage the case is closed, the family's been notified."
"We then began to dig into the history of Mr. Van Tassel and learned that he did a similar thing and was missing in another part of the country a year previously," Colarusso said.His wife isn't buying the story, but since Mr. Van Tassel doesn't want to be found, the authorities won't tell her where he is. Wouldn't that drive you crazy? All those unanswered questions, like don't you miss your 17 grandchildren? Why not just ask for a divorce? My curiosity would be killin' me....
Van Tassel told his wife he was going for coffee before that disappearance as well. His abandoned truck was found weeks later in Ohio, and Van Tassel was found 72 days later at a homeless shelter in Iowa.
Somebody dropped the ball on this one.
Tom Brady's protection on the field is better than his protection off the field...his ex-girlfriend Bridget Moynahan, is three months pregnant with his child.
We wonder how Gisele Bundchen, his Brazilian super-model new girlfriend, will feel about babysitting on Friday nights.
Quick......
if you just had to locate your income tax returns for 1995,1996, and 1997 could you do it? If so, congratulations.
If not, welcome to my world.
The Great State of Ohio thinks that I owe them income taxes for 1995, 1996, 1997, 2003,2004,2005.
According to the nice lady at the state tax office, the IRS reported some information to the state of Ohio that makes them think I owe them money. What that information is, she can't say, but I've got to prove that I didn't live in Ohio by proving I paid state taxes to someone else, or else I get to pay back taxes and interest to the State of Ohio.
2003 I get--that was the first year since 1998 that I didn't live in Ohio. I guess I can even sort of understand '04 and '05 because my employer is an Ohio-based company.
But why there is a question about the mid-'90's is beyond me. I lived in New Jersey in 1995 and Manhattan in '96,'97. My employer was New Jersey based. I had zero, nada, ditto zilcho connection to the state of Ohio, and I guarantee you that I paid enormous state and city taxes to my municipality and state in those years (I paid enormous taxes to the state of Maine in 03-05, but Retired Guy was in charge of the taxes in those years, so I can prove that).
Unfortunately, it is up to me to prove that last sentence is true and I have zero, nada, ditto zilcho idea of where those income tax statements are.
Heck, I can't even remember if I filed using TurboTax in any of those years and if yes, I know for sure those electronic files are gone. I'm relatively certain that my paper copies are gone as well, either lost with the 18 boxes of stuff that the movers lost in my Manhattan to Cincinnati move or just misplaced in the four moves I've made since 1995.
The letter arrived in today's mail. I have until February 16th to prove Ohio is wrong or pay up. Even my undying devotion to The Ohio State University Buckeyes is not enough to extract an extension of the deadline.
I know that I'm an adult and I'm supposed to be responsible for these kinds of things. And I've promised God that I will be, right after He miraculously places those tax returns in my sweaty little palms by February 14.
I've also promised God that I'm not paying one thin dime in taxes that I don't owe to a State that teaches Intelligent Design in its classrooms and who had a state congressman sponsor a bill that would make it a felony offense to transport a woman across a state line for an abortion, even if that pregnancy was guaranteed to kill her.
Nup. Not going to help pay for general silliness.
In response to the post I Brake for Moose, I received an email from a good friend who has a cabin up on Lake of the Woods, Canada. He also brakes for moose, because he's witnessed just enough to make him scared to death of any moose/car interactions. He included a few pictures just to scare me (He wasn't involved in this accident, nor does he know what happened to the woman in the car. I'm thinking that best case, it hurt a lot).
