A carnival of technology

Remember last week when I lamented the loss of the stamp vending machine at the Glenridge post office? It’s systemic. I began to grow suspicious when the Roswell post office also had a new blank wall in the middle of the post office boxes, and according to Internet the machines are all going to be removed by 2010 or so. Apparently they weren’t very popular, and the being broken all the time feature made the machines expensive to maintain. USPS claims that the APC, Internet ordering and the ability to buy a big pile of forever stamps without worrying about rate increases—basically all the stuff my mom left in the comments to my earlier post—makes the machines obsolete.

I usually go to the post office before they open, so I find the lack of a vending machine inconvenient. The APC is difficult to use since it thinks in terms of individual articles of mail and I’d prefer that it trust that I know what I’m doing and just sell me units of postage. Also, it doesn’t take cash, so digging through the couch cushions for stamp money is out. I don’t want to order on the Web because paying postage while buying postage seems silly. As for the forever stamps, I’m still uneasy about them, and I really shouldn’t be. They don’t cost more than regular stamps, and the plan to tie postage rates more closely to the CPI reduces the tiny devaluation that these stamps would experience near the end of a new rate increase. I just keep thinking that they have a catch. It’s weird and new and I don’t like it.

So I bought some forever stamps. It was a total accident. I needed to buy a money order, and I figured I’d ask for a book of their finest stamps while at the counter. The receipt for a book of twenty still said $8.20, not that this would have helped since I keep thinking that stamps cost a cent more than they really do. I didn’t realize what I’d bought until I went to mail the letter. They have a drawing of the Liberty Bell and the word “forever” and something about being first class. As far as the design, I prefer the stamps that have the symbols of our ideals—the Liberty Bell or the Statue of Liberty or other libertyish things—over the regular first class stamps. The flag design seemed to coincide with an explosion of flags across the country following the 9/11 attack, and it seemed to provide a symbol that I wasn’t sure I totally agreed with. I hope these stamps don’t find a way to mess themselves up.

In all the loss of the vending machiens isn’t a big deal. I can get stamps anywhere: I can go to the post office during business hours, the grocery store sells them, and I think one of those buttons I always ignore on the ATM will dispense stamps. Stamps are no less available than before; I just hate having my routine uprooted by progress and being forced to plan a little ahead.

Different regions have different reactions to snow. In the northern part of the country people may sigh and get out the snow shovel and winter tires or something, and in the south people freak right the hell out.

There’s a certain ritual to snow here in humid subtropical Georgia. It’s a rare event, so it’s exciting in itself, and it tends to, appropriately, shut everything down. Especially in Atlanta, due to a high number of non-native residents (“carpetbaggers” in the local parlance), there are basically two types of people on the road when it snows: the people who are aware that they can’t drive in the snow and ice and are giving it a shot anyhow, and the people who, because they have a bag of kitty litter in their trunks or can operate the rear defogger or whatever, think that they can drive in the snow and ice but are actually worse at it than the first group. We don’t have plows or salt trucks or anything like that here. It only snows every couple of years or so, so it’s more economical to just close everything when snow happens rather than maintain a fleet of snow handling stuff. To compound the problem, the weather tends to allow the temperature to climb above freezing at some point even when everything is blanketed in a layer of fluffy white precipitation, the result being that these rare storms tend to cover everything in a sheet of ice. The prospect of needing to drive in snowy weather is terrifying.

It snowed. There was a brief storm on Wednesday that didn’t last long before turning to wintery mix, which I think is weather code for cold and wet, and it snowed again today. It hasn’t turned to ice yet, so it was kind of fun. I built a tiny snowman. I hope the roads don’t freeze tonight.

I like the postal service (the government chartered organization that delivers your letters, not the band, though I do like the band too). As far as package deliverers go, I’ve found them to be by far the most reliable. UPS has a habit of using my packages as door stops and wheel chocks, FedEx is annoyingly inconsistent with regards to obtaining signatures, and DHL is just a joke. The USPS doesn’t have the super-speedy options of the other carriers, but their a-little-bit-speedy options are more reasonably priced and fairly reliable. They offer the most convenient package pickup situation by far; there are big locked boxes in the middle of the apartment complex, and if I get a package someone puts a key in the little locked box that I check daily. I realize that this is a side-effect of their government sanctioned monopoly over mail delivery, but it’s damn handy. Maybe some tiny libertarian voice inside me objects to the post office, but being a government organization allows for some useful laws with regards to tampering and fraud and the legal definition of mailing something, and, whatever is propping the system up (not taxes, so I can’t complain about that), they provide a pretty ok service at dirt cheap rates. I think the postal service is pretty neat.

I do not like going to the post office. I mail an average of three letters a month, and, since I take all of my mail to the post office anyhow after that time someone stole a check out of the outgoing mailbox, I find it more convenient to buy stamps one at a time instead of buying a book or a roll. Besides, I don’t want to end up with another full roll of stamps the next time the rates go up another cent. I doubt I can get away with using forty some penny stamps at once more than a couple of times. Post offices usually have vending machines that dispense a variety of stamp options, including single stamps, along with those dollar coins that have horrible caricatures of dead presidents. When everything is working and I have something smaller than a twenty (the novelty of those stupid coins wore off pretty quick), it works well, but there’s about a 10% chance that the machine will be out of order: it’s full of money or empty of stamps or just not feeling happy that day. Whatevs, there are enough other post offices around that I can usually make do. The only really bad experience in recent memory was when I tried to pay for another sixtieth of my car right before Christmas and I found three post offices with derelict machines. I tried waiting in line at the third, but I gave up after about half an hour of watching two workers come and go at random with a third spending the whole time weighing and metering an endless stream of, judging by the appearance of the mailer and the shape of the packages, a bunch of knitted indie bullshit. Sure, all those finger puppets or dildo cozies or whatever have to mailed by Christmas, but there has to be a better way. I forget how I mailed that stupid check. I didn’t just tape forty-one cents to the corner of the envelope, I don’t think I beat up any orphans and the bank doesn’t appear to hate me any more than usual, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

The Glenridge post office has solved the problem of the broken vending machine by removing it completely. I went in today to buy two stamps and was greeted by an empty alcove in the middle of the rows of post office boxes. “Huh,” I said. The post office proper didn’t open for another half an hour, so I decided to take a shot at the Automated Postal Center. My last experience with that thing wasn’t the greatest. It seemed like an ok idea; a 24-hour (now no longer 24 hours at Glenridge, but still a good number of hours) window into most of the postal services that one might need. I was mailing my Seagate external hard drive back for warranty repair. I navigated the menus, put the package on the scale, assured the machine that the contents weren’t unduly flammable or radioactive, inserted a credit card and out popped a printed label for seven bucks or whatever it came out to be. Pleased about my new postal experience free of inconvenient hours or surly employees, I affixed the sticker to an appropriate spot, went over to package bin and pulled the handle on the hatch. The damn thing was locked. They left the stupid APC running at all hours but didn’t let anyone actually deposit anything. Wary of what tricks the thing might pull this time, I set my letters down and started tapping away on the screen.

I thought that mailing a letter might be easier than mailing a package, but the menu still presented more options than that biscuit screen at BP. I am mailing a letter. It is not a hazardous letter. Here’s the weight. It’s not an oddly shaped letter. Here’s a zip code. From the very start the system didn’t quite do what I wanted: it thinks in terms of individual articles, and I had two things. It also doesn’t take cash, and waiting around for two tiny credit transactions to process filled me with more dread of inconvenience than just sticking in a dollar and then sticking some of the coins in again. I don’t care what those Visa commercials say; credit is slow. I finally got to the point where I could choose to buy a forty-one cent stamp (at which point I also dreading having to go through all that again), and the machine stopped me, saving me this time with another stupid problem. There’s a minimum transaction amount of $1. Visa forbids merchants from setting minimum transaction amounts, and maybe I should complain, but at this point I didn’t much care. I was given a button to press that would allow me to buy three stamps, and I hit it. Maybe I should put “stamps” in scare quotes. These weren’t the neat little tear-off-and-lick perforated squares designed by some unappreciated engraver. The machine, after finally accepting my credit card as valid payment for the one dollar and twenty-three cents, began printing something at about the same speed as that really slow ATM that Wachovia bought from SouthTrust where there are three cars behind you that saw you take the cash and start honking because you’re still just waiting there and the dumb receipt comes out off-center anyway. Eventually three 2??x3½? labels pop out, each containing a 1?x1?? cutout with the date, the postage amount, a 2-D barcode and a bunch of numbers. These things seem kind of wasteful compared to normal stamps, and I’m not totally sure that they are even valid postage. I guess I’ll find out in a couple of days. I hope they don’t expire. Maybe I should just buy a roll of stamps.

What in the hell, body? I’m sick again. It started right after that cold snap last week, so for a while I just assumed that it was because I froze my pipes while out in the weather like an idiot and that it would go away in a couple of days. It hasn’t gone away. I don’t know if the weather contributed to the sickness; temperature isn’t supposed to have anything to do with virus transmission, but I figure it’s called a cold for a reason.

This cold is annoying in its mildness. I don’t have a fever or aches or anything other than the “above the throat” symptoms that Internet says are not affected one way or the other by my continued biking to work. I just have a case of the sniffles and a nasty headache once in a while. I could go for some delirium just to break the monotony. Today was the first that I decided to stay home from work. I woke up with a head full of junk and a wicked pain behind my eyes, so I just sent an email to the office and went back to bed until about noon. I’m really bad at sleeping during the day. I spend most of the time skirting the border of consciousness, so I at least had some vivid dreams, but they were mostly about insurance claims. I’m not sure if the extended nap helped or not.

I actually have had some aches, but they have nothing to do with the cold. I got a Wii for Christmas. EB Games delivered on the rain check, and the parents brought the system when we helped Kat move last weekend. I got it hooked, bought a pile of accessories I haven’t used it, and popped in Wii Sports. As far as gameplay it’s a fun demonstration of the system, but man is it exhausting. Sure, it’s possible to play Wii while sitting on the couch and making little movements, but, as Penny Arcade describes, that method is incorrect. The whole point of the thing is that you get up and move and really get involved in the game, and it’s a blast. Those people who flung a wiimote through their expensive television screens were using a really fun system the way it’s meant to be played (and not using their wrist straps). After a couple round of Wii Boxing I’m sweaty and a little winded. Maybe I don’t need to annoy my neighbors with DDR to get some exercise out of a game system.

I’ve since picked up a copy of Zelda, but I’m a little nervous about starting it. I don’t know a whole lot about this particular game, but the franchise has a habit of producing the best game ever, so I fear that once I get going I may not stop until it’s over.

The bus broke down today! It was so exciting. It was my very first time. I knew it had to happen eventually, but the closest I’d come was being on a bus that rescued the passengers of another bus stuck on 400.

I thought I was doing pretty good on the way home today. It wasn’t super cold like it was this morning, it wasn’t super windy like yesterday, and I got to Mansell and 400 just as the southbound bus was making its turn. Once the light changed I illegally turned on to the onramp, sprinted toward that little bypass where the bus stops, skidded to a halt and got on; I was out of breath, but I wouldn’t have to wait another twenty minutes. It wasn’t not cold enough for me to look forward to that. The bus made it almost to Northridge before the alarms went off.

I still have no idea what was being indicated, but there were all kinds of beeps and bloops and buzzes going off at the front of the bus. Some riders may have exchanged glances, but for the most part everyone continued to sit glassy-eyed, listening to music or reading magazines or just staring out the window. The only time I’ve seen a whole bus react to something was that time some cars collided next to us and everyone thought the bus hit someone. Anyhow, the driver pulled off between the Northridge exit and the onramp, turned off the bus and fiddled around trying to get it to start again. After he left the bus to take a look at the engine people started to get more curious. When he came back and told us all to get off the bus, the silence was broken. Nobody complained that I could hear. It was mostly an exchange of other broken-down bus stories and some wondering at just what the HERO truck that pulled over thought they could do. MARTA has beaten away our hopes and expectations.

I put my balaclava back on (and tried to make it look not too much like a creepy ninja mask) and wondered whether or not to pull my bike off the front, either to prepare for the bus potentially bursting into flames or to just ride home from Northridge if things got too grim. The bus was leaking fluid out of the back, the HERO guys waved some flashlights around and scratched their chins, and eventually we all got back on the bus. A few minutes later an 87 bus came off of Northridge and stopped on the ramp, blocking all the traffic behind it, and we got on the new bus and continued to the station. We still arrived at North Springs before the next bus on the route, so things didn’t end up too bad. I wonder what broke.