Monday, April 14, 2014

Val Firmly Believes That a Need-To-Know Basis Should Be a Two-Way Street

Genius sent me a text this morning that he would be calling this evening to get information. Did you get that? Genius was seeking MY input on INFORMATION. Uh huh. I'm not as stupid as I used to be, it seems, when he lived under my roof.

The information needed concerned how to fill out a W-4 form. Genius has an RA position locked up for next year. Not that it pays in cash, just a pittance each semester, with the big payoff coming in room and board. Still, he needed a W-4 and proof that he can work in this country legally. He also has a summer job lined up in the city. This is where it gets dicier. He will be making $20/hour, 40 hours/week, for most of the summer. His total earnings will be just under the amount that requires filing a tax return. So...he wanted advice.

I do taxes for the Thevictorian family, but Hick is more knowledgeable on the W-4s. I always consult him when one rears its head. So I had Genius in my left ear on the house phone, and Hick in my right ear on my cell phone as he was driving home from work. Let's just say neither of those two can take a hint. Can conform to social cues. Like waiting until a person is done talking to put in their own two cents.

It started out all right. "Genius, I'm going to ask your dad. Just a minute." Then after Hick's input, "Okay. Let me tell him." That worked for about two sentences. Then I felt like Larry Kroger, Pinto to his Animal House buddies, upstairs with his supermarket girlfriend, an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other, both talking to him at once. Only I was not getting information on how to take advantage of my passed-out date, and I did not have a handful of tissues that fell out of her foundation garment.

"I can't do this! You KNEW I was talking to him. You could hear me. Why did you start spouting off again? You always do that! Talk when the other person is talking! I'm done."

"Fine. I'll call him myself."

Yeah. That's what we needed. Hick the one-eyed, inattentive, master sweaver on a back country road dialing Genius with one hand. So that's how Genius got his information.

I can't believe he has not yet responded to my request for input on why I can't open docx files anymore. You'd think one hand would wash the other, now wouldn't you? But I scratched Genius's back, and he won't scratch mine.

Someone got a dirty hand out of this deal, and I think it's me.


  1. Docx are bad. Docs are good. It's the X factor. X-rated movies show stuff that should not be seen in hi-def, for sure. When those Wow potato chips came out, snackers were warned about eXtra anal leakage. (Ewww.)

    Fill your friends in on your eXacting demands. No more docx.

  2. Yep; you're the one dealt a dirty hand here.

  3. I think it is a cell phone thing, there is some slight delay that always screws me up.

  4. Two-way street. There's the problem. He needs to confine his mobile phone damage control conversations to the times when he's careening down one way backroads. That way when he lets go of the steering with both hands to gesture and direct, he only risks himself and all of the surrounding nature.

  5. Sioux,
    Yes. Bad. I have Word 2007, which is supposed to open docx with no problem. I had no problem until about two weeks ago. Can't figure out the change. I can download the garbled symbols, save as plain text, and read it. So far.

    Also, try as I might, I cannot access Missouri Writers Guild. Again, I used to be able to, then I had one brief weekend window where it was back again, but I have been shut out of it for quite some time. I get a box that says "OOPS! Page not found. The page you tried to access does not exist on this server." I am ready to throw in the towel, throw up my hands, and not be a Missouri writer.

    Thanks for VALidating me. I am not such a giver that I don't expect a favor in return.

    That would be a perfect excuse, except that Hick does the same thing IN PERSON! The minute I start to talk, he spouts forth his rhetoric, unmindful of the ebb and flow of normal conversation.

    And he DOES gesture! That rapscallion looks like a signalman on an aircraft carrier.

  6. He's a rapscallion? I'll bet he's a scallywag, too.

    1. Yep. But Hick is NOT a flibbertigibbet, a will-o'-the-wisp, a CLOWN! Still...scientists are working 24/7 to solve a problem like him.