One thing about your ring ...

I owe a deep debt of gratitude to my friend and co-worker Tammy for showing me just how filthy and disgusting I really am.

Or was. On one of my digits.

It started with this email that she sent this morning:

Jewelry Cleaning Offered for a Limited Time!!

I brought my jewelry cleaner in today… isn't that exciting! So today and today only I'm offering a free ring cleaning service to my Pigger family. If you want your rings cleaned, drop them off (around lunch time) and I'll clean them for you. Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. Check out the sparkling rings on Bridget, Jenn, Lisa and Doug.

I wandered over to Tammy's desk. She held out her palm, but I held my ring hand out of view.

"I'm not sure I can go through with it," I said. "I've only ever taken my ring off once in the seventeen years I've been married." That was a for a photo shoot at work when I possessed the only pair of hands available but I couldn't wear a distracting ring.

"You won't believe the difference," Tammy said. "You should have seen Steve's* ring before and after. People don't realize that gold tarnishes just like other metals." She motioned for my ring again. "Fork it over."

I did.

And woman, was she right! She below for a picture of the grime she pulled off my ring.

Now I'm spreading the gospel. To everyone out there wearing junked-up jewelry (a.k.a, guys), if you have a chance to get it cleaned ... don't hesitate, Ya Goof!

* His real name

Wet beggars can't be choosers

Another YMCA-in-the-morning story ...

A few weeks ago, I forgot my towel. It happens from time to time, and not only to me. The Y keeps a supply of towels at the front desk to lend out. You use the towel, take it home, launder it, bring it back. A friend let me in on this one day when he noticed I was drying off with paper towels from the bathroom area.

Except on this day a few weeks ago when I discovered (while still fully clothed!) that I'd forgotten my towel, Darlene at the front desk was fresh out of loaners.

"Wait, I do have these," she said.

"I'll take 'em!"

A set of washcloths, each with a bunny on it! I threw them in on a shelf in the basement after they came out of the wash. I gotta take 'em back on Monday.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Wardrobe malfunctions

I'm coming off a bad week in terms of dressing myself on mornings when I swim.

I wear my swimsuit and sandals out of the house--and my shirt for the day--and take everything else that I need in my gym bag so I can leave right from the YMCA to go to work. Otherwise, I first have to backtrack home.

On Monday, I forgot that I'd need a belt.

On Wednesday, I forgot my shoes.

On Friday, I packed with utmost care and determination. Not until I reached the locker room did I notice that I wasn't carrying anything. I'd forgotten my gym bag entirely.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

523. Mistakenly buy runny original Yoplait instead of nice, thick custard-style Yoplait. Mmm.
522. Throw ketchup packets in your purse and forget about them until they burst.
521. ,ods;omh upit gomhrtd pm upit lrunpstf (Translation: Misalign your fingers on a keyboard.)

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

529. Assemble furniture incorrectly.
528. Stay on hold on the telephone for an hour and then accidentally hang up.
526. Cut up your new credit card that just came in the mail rather than the old one that it replaced.
525. Spill maple syrup on the pants you're about to return.
524. Carefully crease paper to make it tear neatly and then rip it in the wrong place.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

537. Roll down your window inside a carwash
536. Wait in line for a carwash and discover that you don’t have any money
535. Leave window open going into a carwash
534. Go to the dentist or doctor when you don’t have an appointment
533. Send back a Blockbuster movie in a Netflix envelope
532. Mis-remember your long-ago high school mascot
531. Reply to the wrong person in email
530. Put your keys in the pocket of your fold-up canvas chair while watching the Little League game and then lock the car (and the keys) in your trunk

Just call me the boss of sauce loss

Forgive the ugly picture below. I'm trying to impart an important reminder:

Trying to save time sometimes costs you far more time than you'd ever save.

In this case, I was attempting to save the precious seconds lost in extracting barbecue sauce from a bottle that was getting low. I stored the bottle upside-down in one of the shelves in the fridge door. I've always gotten a kick out of bottles made to be stored upside down. The idea is great and simple. Simply great!

Note: My big sister and her husband have complained to me that ketchup spurts or even explodes from a bottle designed for upside-down storage, but I've never had that happen. Maybe it's due to higher air pressure in their house. Completely plausible, given how this sister can talk. Oops, did I type that out loud?

Anyway, the barbecue sauce bottle that I stored for speedy use wasn't made to be stored upside-down, but it would have done the job just fine IF I'd made sure that the cap was on tight.

Don't get ahead of me now. Let a couple beats go by to denote that two weeks passed before I next reached for that particular bottle.

That's when I found that all of the sauce had flowed out of the bottle through the loosened cap and onto the bottle's shelf ... and the shelf below that ... and the shelf below that. Like so:

The picture doesn't show the bottles that had been stored in that column of space. I took them to the sink to scrub off their tangy, sticky covering.

All I can say is: Keith ...

Armstrong un-goofs!

Hey! The story from yesterday continues! Look at the email that I discovered after lunch today:

I would like to personally respond to your comments posted yesterday relative to your being on hold for four hours with Armstrong. My name is Charles Wrightson and I am responsible for Customer Service in our Floor Products Operation. This is totally unacceptable customer service and we sincerely apologize for your extended inconvenience. Our caller experience is extremely important to us and we take the process very seriously.

We do track metrics specific to phone calls with all departments. Our records indicate the longest hold time for yesterday in any department for Flooring Products was 9 minutes 28 seconds. Our corporate communications team also ran a query for all 23 incoming queues for the entire Company and the longest hold time was 17 minutes ( which is used for internal vendors and retirees ). So your experience leads us to believe that we may have a problem with our systems. Would you please do us a favor and tell us which phone number you used to contact us and most importantly we want to help you with your question regarding the floor in your church.

From your message , it is difficult to determine how we can best reach you, other than by e mail. My phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. I will be travelling the rest of this week, so please leave a message if I don`t answer , or you can reach Kathy Mallinson at xxx-xxx-xxxx.

Again, we apologize and are extremely embarrassed by your experience. I can assure you it is not how we want to be perceived, nor how we normally conduct business. Thanks for giving us the opportunity to recover from our goof.

Nice! Here's how I replied:

Now *this* is encouraging! Not only because it looks like I'll get some information but because Armstrong is hip enough to watch even little-read blogs (and fewer blogs are littler-read than this one!). I assume you watch the net for mention of your company with Google alerts or other means. Way to stay current, AWI! I'll post this on the blog in a way that will give you heaps of credit but protect your privacy.

I was calling from xxx-xxx-xxxx. Please let me know what your log shows for that number, if anything. I'll try calling you now. Thanks.

And a little later, I added:

Satisfaction at last! I tried your phone, got your voice mail, called Kathy, and she transferred me to Jennie Kapwell, who gave me solid answers! I'm once again strong on Armstrong! As mentioned in my previous email, I called from xxx-xxx-xxxx and hope to hear back as to whether that number shows up in your system. And I'll give you kudos on YaGoof.com tonight! Thanks.

I really have to hand it to Armstrong. I'm not completely surprised, though. I attended a work seminar some years ago where there was a very interesting speaker who spoke about how seriously Armstrong takes customer service. As I recall, the speaker said that Armstrong had a product that customers regularly damaged by using the wrong type of cleaner, apparently because they weren't reading the directions, and the result was many unhappy customers. Armstrong turned the situation around by beginning to print their support number right on the product, which made customers have to call up to ask how to get the !@#$ printing off--which created the opportunity to tell the customers the correct type of cleaner to use! Satisfaction soared! Brilliant! The speaker's point was that complainers (like moi) can become among the most loyal of customers if you treat them right.

There's no doubt that the next time I need to think about flooring, the first brand that I'll consider will be Armstrong. Armstrong World Industries is our first official Un-Goof.

Charles Wrightson, thanks so much for your email! I do hope to hear back about whether my phone number shows up in your system--and maybe you can verify or correct the details of the "how do you remove the printing story."

Just hold on an afternoon now, ya whippersnapper

I set a personal record today.

I waited on hold on the telephone for four straight hours. Yep, 12:30 until 4:30, when the company I was calling closes and anyone who happens to be waiting on hold is just ... let go.

The company: Armstrong World Industries

The situation: Our church just had new flooring installed, and we received some advice to apply wax. I researched it on Armstrong.com--which has lots of great info--and it doesn't look like we should apply wax (just cleaner and polish instead), but I wanted a technical rep to confirm that, so I called the support line.


Let's see, since I heard it about 800 times, maybe I can recall what the recorded voice kept saying every so often ... It was something like ...

Thank you for your patience, but we don't have anyone to talk to you, so please go to our website instead.

Okay, okay, it was a little nicer than that, but the result was the same: No live help.

The reason I held on so long: I had a bunch of (relatively brainless) design to do at work today, and I have a headset that plugs into my phone, so I just refused to hang up. After the first hour, it became a challenge. I had kind of hoped to listen to an entire Stephen King audio novel this afternoon, but hey ... the on-hold message from Armstrong World Industries is nearly as entertaining.

Nearly.

People of Armstrong ... Ya Goofs!

Dire dairy dollars

Ethan and Emmett are in Vermont at Camp Grammie.*

*Translation: Our sons are making their annual summer stay with my parents for two weeks.

Janet and I have the house to ourselves back here in Pennsylvania.**

**Yippeeeee!

I drove the boys up on Thursday; Janet needed to stay home. Needless to say, every stop for food involved bacon. And we found every opportunity to stop at creemee*** stands in Vermont.

***Soft-serve ice cream, for those of you not from New England.

My older sister, Tina, said to be sure to stop for creemees at one particular stand in Jeffersonville, Vermont (everyone up there usually just calls the town Jeff). So the three of us did stop at that particular stand.

The signs featured messy handwriting but neat prices for the creemees:

$1.00 baby
$1.25 small
$1.50 large
$1.75 extra-large

I'm genetically very chea--er, thrifty, so that list made me downright weepy.

Creemee stands give you big servings. Tina wouldn't have recommended this place if they skimped on the product. I ordered a small size, knowing that there would be plenty to lick--and indeed there was.

Ethan and Emmett wanted milkshakes. The price wasn't listed, but--oh, it pains me to say it--I figured that if the creemee prices were so favorable, I would find the milkshake prices the same.

Oh, dread and fatal flaw.

The guy at the window was manning the place alone--it was a slow night--and he handed out my creemee and then went to work on the milkshakes. It was a warm night (perfect creemee weather), so I licked my entire treat away before he was done, with time to spare. With a light heart, I jauntily took the time to lay out my money for speedy payment: a five, four ones and a quarter all lined up so that I could choose the best combination for paying. I expected most of the currency to go back in my pocket.

Mr. Window Man finally handed out the goods and toted up the bill, which he announced as ...

$9.25

Oh, evil stake through a penurious heart.

I numbly gathered up my entire monetary display and transferred it through the window. I don't remember the walk to the car; I simply found myself behind the wheel. I put the car in gear. I checked both ways. I motored onto the road with a heart as heavy as if I'd accidentally driven over the cake that won the blue ribbon at the state fair.

I fumbled about in my mind for comfort. I wouldn't have batted an eye at $2.00 apiece for the milkshakes. Perhaps even $2.50. So I would easily (I couldn't go so far as to say gladly) handed over as much as $6.00. But to have miscalculated by 50% was bitter, bitter, bitter.

"Let this be a lesson to you," I told the boys. "ALWAYS know the price beforehand." I drew some courage from the thought that the experience had been valuable for my offspring.

Still ... it was hard to sleep.

To say "Keith, YaGoof!" does little justice to my mental anguish. I can only hope to get over it in time.

1002 ways to goof up

539. Drop your keys and credit cards into an automatic toilet.
538. Show up at a Saturday event on Friday.

Hosed big time

Want an example of a powerful brand name? Here ya go.

What brand do you associate with blood drives?

Betcha said RED CROSS.

This came home to me when I responded to a recent email at work announcing a blood drive organized by the family of a local preschooler suffering from leukemia. I was due to give, and I was taking the day off, so I showed up at the drive at 1:00.

And I didn't leave until 3:34.

That's right, boys and girls, two-and-a-half hours. I don't regret giving blood, of course, in honor of the boy and his family and to help whoever will use my blood, but still ... TWO-AND-A-HALF HOURS?? in about 25 years of giving blood, I've never had a drawing take longer than an hour, including one where I was also typed to donate bone marrow. In fact, almost every time the Red Cross got me in and out in under 40 minutes.

And oh, by the way, this was NOT a Red Cross blood drive. Who knew that anyone else even collects blood? See what I mean by a powerful brand name? I don't want to name the other, non-RC organization, because of my poor experience. I was curious to see how they would do--I root for the underdog and all that--but they let me down, waaaaaaaay down.

And get this, there's going to be a RED CROSS blood drive next week at my workplace, where I most often give blood, and for the first time ever, each donor will receive a free insulated lunch bag and will be entered in a drawing for a $10 gas card.

: (

I mentioned all of this to a friend at work, and he said he heard that the free lunch bags will have the Red Cross logo and this tagline:

If you give blood anywhere else, you best pack a lunch.

(Unnamed Blood Drive People), Ya Goofs!

P.S. These blood-sucking goofs did send me a thoughtful and apologetic reply to my email with the subject line "Where do I go to get my time back?" They explained that more donors showed up at the beginning of the drive than they expected. I don't buy it, though--their process was simply inefficient, with confusing paperwork and directions.

P.P.s. Please scroll up to the top of this post and take note of my Best. Title. Ever.

Look out belooooooooooooooooow

On the eve of Independence Day, Janet's gall bladder gained its independence.

In other words, she had surgery on July 3.

We spent the Fourth of July getting the house ready for her return. We've just had new windows put in, so preparations included returning a bedroom air conditioner to its window.

Except the air conditioner didn't fit the new frame as well as the old frame. As I attempted to adjust the unit, I lost my grip and it fell about fifteen feet to the lawn. Fortunately, it didn't hit anyone or anything (except grass).

We'd only had it for about two months, naturally. So I got one just like it at Lowe's.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Hm, is this the old air conditioner or the new air conditioner?

Look, matching remote controls!

Good Lawd, what a way to start the day

Every workplace in Pennsylvania is required to have a lively process analyst who hails from deep in Mississippi, and ours is Selesia Byrd.

Selesia works in a different building from me, so I was surprised to see her walking across the parking lot just ahead of me after I arrived today. I soon saw why. She was too embarrassed to report to her own department.

"Y'all will never guess what I did first thing this morning," she said.


Can YOU ALL guess?


She's taken up residence in a lounge-type area in this building, bellied up close to a table. It appears she'll be stain put (no typo). Have laptop, will travel.

Selesia, Ya Goof!

Two bagger

Emmett did a good job yesterday evening getting ready for his field trip today. I didn't see this directly, because I went to bed before he and Ethan and Janet did, but there was evidence when I came down this morning: I found Emmett's trip shirt on the kitchen table and his lunch all packed in the fridge, except for a small bag of chips on the counter.

On the counter, there was also a matching bag of chips that I figured was for Ethan. Every parent of multiple kids knows the importance of being equitable. This wanes only a little when kids enter double digits in age, so I assumed that Janet just snagged the second bag for Ethan when she got Emmett's.

But no. When Emmett was gathering up his stuff for us to meet the trip bus at 5:45, he grabbed both bags of chips.

"Both bags?" I said.

"Well, there are two bus rides," Emmett said. "There and back."

I rolled my eyes but let it go. Once in a while, ya gotta let a kid kick back and overeat.

Still ... Emmett, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up

541. Delete a voice mail message by accident.
540. Drop your cell phone into the toilet.

Misjordin' words during the blake-off

We just experienced a strange confluence of events.

We're watching a recording of the American Idol finale. I'm fighting off contenders for use of the laptop.

Blake Lewis was launching into his first song.

Janet asked me to check the online calendar that we use, at BackpackIt.com; she was afraid that she'd missed Ethan's latest orthodontist appointment. But I found it in the square for May 29.

Just then, Blake reached his big finish.

"Nope, next Tuesday," I said, to Janet (referring to the appointment).

"There is no next Tuesday," Ethan said.

Everyone turned to Ethan and said: "Huh?" He was canceling next Tuesday?

Ethan returned a quizzical look, then understanding dawned. He thought that my "Nope, next Tuesday" meant that I was dissing Blake's performance and suggesting he might do better next week.

Ethan, Ya Goof!

Most Valuable Goof

Here's Emmett with the game ball he received in his last Little League game. He went 3-for-4 with two singles and a double.

This was after not laying a bat on a ball through the first five games. Hitting is not (usually) his strength. He has a way of watching strikes go by.

Before the previous game, I advised Emmett to swing at the first three pitches in each at-bat. Not everyone agrees with that piece of coaching, but my observation is that Emmett used up so much time deciding whether to swing that he didn't have enough time left to actually swing.

Emmett didn't like the advice during the last game and didn't follow it. I reiterated it during this game by holding up three fingers (for the first three pitches) each time I caught his attention from the stands.

"Emmett!" I called out as I approached the field ... as I took my seat ... as he took throws in the outfield ... as he was on deck. He'd look up. I'd raise the three fingers. He'd give a little smile, but not an obedient smile.

He approached the plate. Swung. Missed. But still ... one pitch, one swing. Maybe he was going to, yes, play ball with my approach this time?

Second pitch. Swing. Solid hit!! It scooted past second base! Emmett was so stunned that he almost forgot to run. I called his name when he was standing on first. I held up the three fingers and got that smile from him. Emmett eventually made it to third, and was the first runner in on a grand slam by Hannah Mercer. (Note: Hannah was definitely a candidate for the game ball, too ... but let's just say that she has a superior chance of getting another one. She's a sweet kid who can see the big picture.)

Next time Emmett was up, I showed him the three fingers again. He swung on the first pitch again and got a double.

"There's half the cycle right there!" I said to Don Mercer, Hannah's dad. He laughed. When Emmett took the outfield again, I went to the fence and held my arm over, extending the three fingers. Emmett met them with three fingers.

I held up the fingers again when Emmett went to the plate again. He struck out, but it was with two fouls and many swings.

I hoisted the three fingers again for Emmett to see when he took the plate the fourth time. And he got another other single. And the game ball.

I hugged him when he showed it to me. "Nice job!" I said.

And get this. He said ...

"You know, it really pays to listen to the coach."

"The coach? The coach??!" What about the Three Fingers?!

"Well, the Coach said to watch the rotation of the ball."

"The rotation of the--?"

Emmett, you're a goof! (And I'm proud of ya!)

You could say he staged his own disappearance

Yesterday, all of us were primed to go to the Junior High Spring Orchestra Concert and hear Ethan play his cello. That includes Ethan's grandmother, Leah, and great-aunt, Lois. And okay, it leaves out Emmett, who needless to say is a huge Ethan supporter ... but he had a Little League game at the same time.

Until Ethan told us that he mixed up the dates and his concert isn't until next Tuesday.

Janet tried to reach her mother and Lois to tell them the news, but she couldn't. We caught up with them when they ambled over to the Little League Field after the concert.

"It was a nice show," Leah said, "but we never did see Ethan!"

Naturally, I turned to him and said: "Ya Goof!"

Analysis of a NON-goof

Here's one for the advanced curriculum ... A circumstance that MADE me look like a goof when I wasn't. Honest!

THE SETTING

• The cafeteria at work
• The hallway outside the cafeteria

THE PLAYERS

• Myself
• A co-worker, Angie
• A co-worker, Jim

THE ACTION
Scene 1
I was leaving the cafeteria as Angie entered. We work in the same building but different areas. We exchanged greetings.

Scene 2
A ways down the hallway, I remembered something that I needed from the cafeteria, so I turned around and went back.

Scene 3
I met Angie coming out of the cafeteria, followed by another co-worker, Jim, who works in yet another area different from mine or Angie's. I greeted Jim, but since I had just seen Angie, I couldn't very well greet her again, so I simply passed her by. Jim may have wondered why I was ignoring her.

But see? I was innocent!

Keith, Ya Non-Goof!