March 22, 2000
Dear Everyone:
For my birthday this year, Mother, bless her heart,
sent me a deluxe soap dispenser for the shower.
Seems she may have noticed all the suction-cup shelves filled
with various pump and squeeze bottles required for a properly equipped
bath.
The dispenser has four tanks, for holding up to
four liquids like soap, shampoo, body wash and the like.
Four is hardly enough for a person who uses three different types
of soap just to wash her face; but it goes a long way towards clearing
some badly-needed elbow-room.
(Bumping elbows with a suction-cup shelf is one of the best ways
to loosen it enough for it to come crashing down at around 2:00 in the
morning.)
Not being willing to try drilling holes in shower
tiles, I opted to use the “silicon adhesive” that also came with the
dispenser, for the purpose of attaching the mounting bracket to the
wall. (This allows you to
remove the actual dispenser, should you ever feel the need.)
I waited patiently for the requisite 48 hours to allow the
“silicon adhesive” to properly dry.
Then I filled all four tanks and looked forward to our first bath
together.
It was during our first bath together that I
realized I had no idea how to make the thing work.
The instructions, which came in two languages (one of which I
identified as English, couldn’t begin to guess at the other, although
the actual dispenser was made in Italy), and which were all about how to
fix the mounting bracket to the wall and about how not to send the
dispenser back to the manufacturer if it malfunctioned, even though it
had a two-year warranty; gave no real clue as to how to get the
dispenser to dispense.
Luckily, I had not removed any pump and/or squeeze
bottles from the shower area; I had merely moved them from one
suction-cup shelf to another.
So I was able to take my Sunday night bath without serious
repercussions. Monday night,
I took another stab at getting the push-buttons on front of the
dispenser to work. And this
time, I was able to get three out of four tanks to release their
contents in the appropriate manner.
(Note for future reference:
There’s a sort of priming of the pump required here to get
everything flowing properly.)
As for the third, non-flowing tank, I determined
that the “detangling solution” (hair conditioner) was too thick for the
dispenser, being more gel-like than liquid.
Replacing it with something else would not be a problem, if I
could just figure out a way to remove the current contents from tank
three without disturbing the occupants of tanks one, two and four.
Sure, I could lift the whole dispenser off the wall bracket, but
then what? If I tried to
pour the conditioner out, you can just imagine what would happen to
everything else.
Which is where the kitchen utensils came into play.
It’s quite amazing what you can do in just a few minutes with a
gravy ladle, a bowl, a measuring cup, some warm water, and a turkey
baster. Worked like the
proverbial charm. Hair
conditioner replaced with another liquid face cleanser.
And, next
Thanksgiving, if the turkey has an exotic flavor, well, at least
it’s well de-tangled.
Thanks, Mom!
Now if I can just keep which one is which straight.
In other news…
One reason I never got around to doing my taxes
last weekend is that “Jeannie” and I decided to go and see
Erin
Brockovich.
Julia Roberts
plays Erin and, make no mistake, this is Erin’s story.
Erin is an unemployed single mother of three, with very little
education, who lands a job at a small-time law firm headed by
Albert Finney
as the gruff, but kind-hearted, lawyer who lets her work as a file
clerk.
Let me let you in on a little secret:
In any business office, it is the file clerks who really know
what’s going on. They
read everything.
In no time, Erin discovers a discrepancy in a real estate file.
Why would
PG&E, who is in the process of buying a piece of property, be paying
the medical expenses of the property owners?
Erin starts investigating and soon uncovers the
truth: The property owners,
and a lot of their neighbors, have become sick as a result of possible
wrong-doing on the part of PG&E.
Soon Ed, the gruff but kind-hearted lawyer, who was looking
forward to coasting his way to retirement, has an enormous possible
class-action suit in front of him.
And Erin, in tight clothes and high-heels, is busily working her
way over more gravel roadways, digging up even more prospective clients.
These are working-class people and they relate to
Erin in a way they never could to a lawyer, even a small-time one.
Erin speaks their language.
And when she tells a snooty female lawyer in an expensive suit
and sensible shoes, exactly where to get off, the audience cheers.
Erin has her ups and downs, of course, taking the
job to support her kids, then getting so caught up in the drama that the
kids accuse her of ignoring them.
She dresses like trash, then complains that no one takes her
seriously. In fact, try hard
to spot the one scene in which at least one part of her bra is
NOT showing.
There are a number of discrepancies in the film,
like the tough biker dude neighbor.
But, all in all, it’s a pleasant piece, even when you know going
in how it’s going to end.
Watch for Peter
Coyote in an ironic role.
He currently makes his “bread and butter” money doing voice-overs
for a popular water filtration system, something that wouldn’t have
helped these people one little bit.
Love, as always,
Pete
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