Barrel Cactus Flower

It's a deep red with hints of orange and pink. It's so bright, it pulls your eye. It is the flower of a barrel cactus.

I walked the dogs down the street and saw this by the side of the road. I had to come back and take the snap.

There are lots of amazing flowers in the Sonoran Desert. Many bloom a second time during the monsoon rains. But there is something haunting about the color of a barrel cactus flower, something that a photo cannot capture.

It-Takes-A-CenturyLink, or Para Continuar en Español, Oprime el Nueve

Time Toilet

Recently, Bill Maher did a thing on "New Rules" about being afraid less of "Big Government" and more of big business. The jokes were inspired by a customer's hellish experience trying to cancel a Comcast service. See, for example, the NPR article.  Although Comcast backpedalled by claiming that was not its corporate culture, it is. Which was the point of Maher's jokes and social commentary.

My nemesis is CenturyLink, so named because of the time it takes to get something done.

Last year I asked customer service to drop the first house line and make the second line our sole phone number. You have no idea how confusing that was to the phone company.  Three times I spent a half a day calling, being cut-off, calling, being given another number, assurances, conflicting information, providing my phone number (repeatedly in the same call) and listening to "Para Español, oprime el nueve." It doesn't help that each time you get a different rep, so what one guy tells you becomes irrelevant as soon as you hang up. Of course, that's by design. It-Takes-a-CenturyLink has a random rotation system.

It took two months to drop a house line. I'm not making this stuff up.

I recently got a form letter from CenturyLink explaining that I can upgrade my internet speed. I'm skeptical. Last year and again this year I called the good folks at It-Takes-a-CenturyLink asking whether I could get higher speed.  "No. In your area [no optic cable line] 1.5 Mps is the max." Mind you, I called customer service and technical support to get the same answer: not available on my street. So the letter surprised me.

What the heck, I'll call again. Identify my phone number (which I had already punched in for the computer voice, "Para Español, oprime el nueve.") mailing address, last 4-digits of my SSN, a number where I could be reached [?! Don't they have caller ID?] -- one goes through this routine with each new rep, regardless -- and customer service says I can get 20 Mps and technical support tells me I can get 40 Mps.

"How? What's changed?"

"You need a VDSL modem/router."

"Is this new technology?" The tech support guy was speechless. Turns out VDSL has been out for years and years.  It's old technology.

I sign up for 20 Mps.  I bought my VDSL modem/router at Best Buy so I wouldn't have to wait. After all, CenturyLink has to only flip a switch.  I bought the identical modem/router -- identical down to the logos -- that CenturyLink will sell or lease to me, but at least someone else gets some markup out of it. Plus I don't have to wait. But I am up against Big Business.

I have to wait for It-Takes-a-CenturyLink to UPS me a modem/router. "I already have one. It's the same modem/router."

"No, we have to send you one."

"Can you check with your supervisor?"

"I just did. There's no way in the system to turn it off.  Just send it back to us."

Yeah, with institutional incompetence like CenturyLink, I can trust that I won't have to call again to take the charge off my bill.

"Since I already have the required modem/router, when can higher speed be switched on my line?" In eight days, was the answer.  It was scheduled for the end of the business day on Friday. There was nothing I could do. The system assumes you are waiting for a UPS delivery, so it makes you wait for no reason. Plus by scheduling it just before the weekend, the customer is assured of a nice conversation with India.

Then there was the rep in India (I couldn't make out which Indian language was chattering in the background, but the lunchroom conversation was so loud that I could barely make out the rep's voice) who couldn't -- actually, wouldn't -- help me set up my new router because I had an order pending. "Yes, but this modem/router is good for lower speeds, isn't it?" The Indian rep agreed, but hung up.

What the heck, I'll call again. Identify my telephone number which I had already punched in for the computer voice, ("Thank you for calling CenturyLink. Para continuer en Español, oprime el nueve.") mailing address, last 4-digits of my SSN, a telephone number where I could be reached -- one goes through this routine with each new rep one has to talk with, and there are lots of them -- and the third Indian rep helps me set up the modem/router.

You know, we pay these guys over $200 a month. The only competition it has is Cox (doesn't serve our street), Comcast (bad reviews), and Dish (horrible reviews). Oddly enough, they are all priced pretty much the same, if you can get beyond the "bundles" and five-page itemization that not even the company's billing folks can explain.

This is the private enterprise, free market system that Republican hacks, tea-baggers and Ayn Rand worship. I say we need a lot more regulation and a lot more anti-trust litigation.

Well, I'm supposed to get 20 Mps after five this evening. Be still my heart.

Post Script — Nothing Doing

Of course, it didn't happen. No VDSL double circuits available was the explanation. So CenturyLink is behind the times (again that time metaphor), selling stuff it doesn't have, and its left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. But their reps, generally very nice people, are trained to give happy answers that mean nothing.

Post Script 2 — India, Boise & the "Held Order" Dept.

Over the weekend, the reps in India and the one tech-support rep I managed to talk with all suggested I call on Monday during business hours. I'm getting better at calling. No point sitting holding the phone; I make breakfast and eat it as I wait.  Para continuer en Español, oprime el nueve.

At first, the nice rep (in Boise?) tells me that the order can't be completed because I don't have the correct modem. That's a new one. I assure her that I do and encourage her to keep checking.

It takes about a quarter of an hour as I listen to It-Takes-A-CenturyLink recordings encouraging me to upgrade to 40Mbs and assuring me that my phone call is important. A couple of times the nice rep interrupts the recordings to assure me that she was still working on it. "Hello. Mr. P___, are you still there?" Well, yes. (What did she think, or is it typical that callers give up and hang up, or was she hoping?)

Finally a new voice comes on. It's a lot less cheery, but a lot more informative. She's obviously not in sales. She is one of those people who actually knows, actually does the work, and you hardly ever get to talk to. My order is in the "Held Order" department. She confirms that what is missing is a double VDSL circuit in the phone company box that's across the street from San Simeon, by the Mormon graveyard. A work order has been placed, but it might take a month.

Well, that's better news than what I was told last year and earlier this year when the blame was put on the lack of a fiber-optic line in the street.

Milagro de milagros, my phone company bill drops when I get more expensive service. Makes no sense, but then, have you ever tried to understand a phone company bill? So I think to myself, why don't I call customer service and get a bill reduction now.

This is where it gets funny. The nice man tells me that my order is completed. (This is what's fun about calling It-Takes-A-CentutyLink: every time a new person and a new story.)

I say he doesn't know what he is talking about. The order is not completed. He gets a little defensive. When I tell him I already have a modem, and I've already had to return one It-Takes-A-CenturyLink sent me by UPS, he says the rep who told me It-Takes-A-CenturyLink had to send me a modem didn't know what he was taking about. You tell me. Is this funny or what?

He says I can put in a new order and it would be completed on the 13th at the latest. Okay. I bite. Now I have two orders. What could possibly go wrong?

Post Script 3 — the 13th; Is it Christmas Yet?

What can go wrong is reality. Despite some feint hope in my psyche, the 13th came and passed without the higher speed upgrade. It's like the promises of Advent unfulfilled at Christmas. [A tip o' the hat to Randy whose new blog has inspired me this morning.]

It-Takes-A-CenturyLink trains reps to say things to make the customer feel good and the company look good. Calls are recorded to make sure reps authoritatively maintain appearances.

The "Held Order" department is much closer to the people who actually do the work. Its telephone number is a precious resource because the folks there actually have a pretty good idea of what's going on locally.

For fun, I call the general support numbers to needle and waste the reps' time. It can provide lots of amusement because you always get a nice new rep who is eager to help and authoritatively tells you a novel story. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" they obligatorily and cheerily ask after they have been unable to help with anything.

For reality, I call the "Held Order" number where I'm told maybe by this month-end some tech will be sent out to the phone company box down the block to install a VDSL double circuit. The information is not much more satisfying, but it is closer to reality. When It-Takes-A-CenturyLink advertises the availability of higher speed DSL, the job of installing the necessary circuits is less important. Appearances matter, not reality.

Megacorporation X also promotes
what's not now -- like,
"your check is in the mail ® "

Yesterday we saw a phone company truck parked by the subject, under-equipped phone company box. Shucks. The truck had Xfinity painted all over it. (Where do these corporations get their names? Why do they pay money to get them? Why do they keep changing them? How do you pronounce "Xfinity"? Not like I care.) Xfinity, if I understand advertise-speak correctly, is Comcast, which is another mega-corporation determined to rule whatever ("X") is everything (infinity).

Not the promised truck. So much for a few seconds of feint faith.

You think I should give the It-Takes-A-CenturyLink reps the phone number for the "Held Order" department? Nah. That would ruin the fun.

Post Script 4 — Monsoon & Mid-September

A couple of weeks ago Shari fielded a call from CenturyLink to advise that the additional VDSL circuits will be installed mid-September. By now, I'm not waiting so eagerly, but I also suspect that it will be done.


By now, it's Shari's turn to get livid with the phone company. Monday's monsoon rain caused our phone line and that of at least one neighbor to go dead. That night, the lines were restored. Tuesday morning, ours was down. I was in Vegas until Wednesday (another story) so Shari had to call to schedule a repair guy to come out. Thursday was the earliest, which schedule evoked Shari's anger and threats to switch to another phone company. (Which one? There's little choice between Tweedledee and Tweedledum.) Thursday morning before 12:30 it was.

She was going through internet withdrawal. It didn't help that the rep said that on the phone company end, the line appeared to be working. If the number was dialed, the caller got a ring. If the problem was in the house, we get to pay for the repair.

I got home around noon on Wednesday and my fears proved founded. Shari hadn't picked up the phone, and that was because it was down. My experiences, as chronicled and suggested in this expanding post, and going back over a year, in fact, allowed me to be a bit philosophical. I allowed Shari to pick up the irate-customer baton.

No one showed up in the morning. At 12:30, Shari used our clamshell cell phone to call customer service. As I listened sympathetically, she waded through the para continuar en Español, oprime el nueve and similar digital recordings before reaching a rep who paged the guy who actually does the work. New ETA: 2:30. They are busy. Around 3:15 and almost fit to be tied, Shari calls again. This time the rep is in Manila. That's in the Philippines.

While she is struggling to get the Manila rep to page the repairman, the land-line phone rang. I picked up the phone. It was the repairman. Line is fixed. For the previous couple of hours he'd been working on the box down the street. He noted that the box was scheduled for the VDSL upgrade next week, but he replaced the to-be-upgraded part — with some difficulty, he explained.

So that's why I have some confidence that we might get high speed internet, as advertised and promised in late July.

But, to be honest, I am finding that I have more sympathy for the phone company. Monday's rain caused a lot of outages and I'm grateful they fixed our line as quickly as they did. I enjoyed and took advantage of my time without phone and internet. I'm also relieved that it's fixed.

Post Script 5 — High Speed & Scottish Vote

Well, yesterday, Thursday September 18, 2014, was a big day. Not only did the Scots vote to remain within the U.K. and continue the confusion among "British", "English" and "United Kingdomonians", but we got our high speed DSL connection. Laughing with glee and amazement, we watched web pages flash into existence. Our Roku box downloaded programs with a previously mythical four-out-of-four dot quality. Our previous high was three dots, but usually we received at two-dot quality.

Uploading is still a bit slow, but hey, it's not a perfect world.

Raise the Baja Arizona Tricolor (Garden Shade - Three)

What a way to celebrate Bastille Day! Hoisting the Baja Arizona tricolor (sand-brown, sand-brown & sand-brown)!

Shari is our Betsy Ross. She finished a day's worth of sewing in the morning. By afternoon, the second and third stripes were mounted and all three colors are now billowing in the wind.

Now all we need is to sing the Baja Arizona anthem each morning at sunrise. Is it "La Cucaracha"?

The flag I refer to, of course, is a very large one that flies flatly, tethered at both ends, as shade over the three garden beds.

The shade is spectacular — even in the cloudy, overcast days of the monsoon season. There is a feeling of relief underneath, yet no shortage of wonderfully diffused sunlight.

The flag is tethered with scores of
"S"-shaped curtain pins holding
grommets to eye-hooks.

We're hopeful the lush green plants will appreciate our modifications to the Sonoran Desert environment.

Now our attention turns towards a patio seating area within the east side of the garden. It's a place to sit under the shade of a palo verde tree
and contemplate the environment.

Shari wants to plant grapes and have the vines trained on an overhead trellis. Whoa boy!  More post-hole digging!

Garden Shade

Shari puts the final touches on the first, middle sheet of
shade cloth. There will be two more sheets.

Morning gardening

It seems to me that pretty much everything in the desert appreciates a little shade, so an integral part of any vegetable garden is shade.

Shade fabric is a popular item here in Tucson. Trouble is, so are wind gusts.

The first of three sheets is up. Shari folded and sewed each six-foot wide end, reinforcing it with cotton twill, then hammered in ten rivet-like grommets on each end. Meanwhile, your author strung seven lines of rope east-west across the length and the fabric is tucked north-south over and under the ropes.

Hog wire serves as a sturdy and movable frame for the
scarlet runner beans.

We had a nice windy rain storm last night. Four of us sat in front of our house, under the eves, watching the spectacle, feeling the heavy raindrops on our legs, smelling the humid air, and watching sheets and bolts of lightning over town. It was a feast for all of the senses; way better than anything TV can offer.

We watched the single length of shade fabric billowing in the wind, barely held by the rope matrix. The fabric and its grommets held.

Today, Shari is working on the next two sheets. They will be tucked over-and-under in an opposite pattern to the middle sheet, which hopefully will make the rope matrix more secure.

In the meantime, Shari is turning the desert green. Shari has a touch for growing basil. Basil loves heat and sun. How she got it to grow on overcast, chilly Whidbey Island is beyond me. She has three kinds flourishing here. Their flavor is very pungent.

They say that about food grown in the desert. It has
intense flavor. You get less product because of the intense climate, but it's way more concentrated.

The scarlet runner beans are beginning to run. Shari started the seedings in pots in the backyard where there's shade. Transplanted into the garden, they struggled from shock and sun. Now they are reaching and climbing up the hog wire frame.

Melons and cucumbers are also thriving. We've been eating and giving away cherry tomatoes. The little peach and loquat trees are hanging in there as we set up trellises to train their branches to create an espalier.

I wonder if they have slugs in the Sonoran Desert. They were our nemesis on Whidbey. Here it may be grasshoppers.

FOOTNOTE:  Shari's 4,000+ sq.ft. garden on Whidbey Island:

Three varieties of apple on an espalier

Four levels of terraces.

Looking up towards the house

Grape vines grown from sticks; cuttings from
autumn pruning at the local vineyard near Langley.

Monsoon Rain - New Growth

We've had something like one to two inches of rain over this last week. Down the hill a rain gauge reports an inch; up the hill another rain gauge reports two and a third inches.

Rain is like that here. Go a few blocks and it can be very different. Check out the Arizona rainlog website.

One can tell the plants are happy. And there are surprises and miracles.

So I'm pulling the recently emptied recycling container back from the street and notice a pin cushion cactus by the side of the driveway. It's in full bloom. It all happened overnight. Pin cushions are tiny cacti, as you can see from the ruler posing next to it.

I had to take a photo and share the beauty of these tiny little plants that like to hide in the shade of sagebrush.

Other vegetative responses are more common, but no less miraculous. There are palo verde seedlings everywhere. What is amazing about the sprouts is how they move the dirt around them. I would need time-lapse photography to capture the movement, but each seedling has pushed dirt and small pebbles aside to create a little depression around itself.

How do they do that? Plants aren't supposed to move like that, are they?

The Desert Smells Like Rain

 Rain.

The shock of humid air and the smell of the first wet after weeks of summer heat are among the most exhilarating and dramatic sensations in the Sonoran Desert.

We've had three-digit highs and clear skies for weeks. Wednesday night it rained enough that everything smelled heavily moist on Thursday morning. More clouds gathered in the afternoon and the desert got a decent drenching.

It's like a blessing. It's like an incredible act of kindness.

I've been on a weekly schedule of watering plants and trees. I feel responsible for anything I've planted or transplanted, and it's taken some time for me to realize that the bigger agaves, palo verdes, acacias, and even eucalyptus need occasional water to thrive. "There's not a plant in the desert that doesn't like water once a week," said the nurseryman down the street who has a gardening talk show on the radio.

It's one thing to try to flood the roots of a plant with a garden hose. It's another when Nature floods the landscape.

It's an amazing display of generosity. Rain falling everywhere — on ornamentals and weeds alike; petunias, sage, creosote, and saguaro.

The Great Fence of San Simeon

On Saturday, May 31, 2014, the Great Fence of San Simeon was completed.

As the last gate was being covered with hardware cloth to complete the compound enclosure, sure enough, a large lizard had wandered inside and was unable to tunnel or climb out -- a good indication of the value of the fence.

We have nothing against lizards. They eat bugs. I teased and chased it out with a piece of PVC pipe and the garden hose.

Which reminds me of the great walls that we humans erect to keep our kind in and the other kind out. Like the Great Wall of China, the Berlin Wall, the Israeli West Bank Wall, and the other great fence in Arizona that we justify in the name of Homeland Security.

Then we have the walls we build in our minds, like Fox Noise and MSNBC. But enough of comparing people with varmints.

We hope to invite many people into our new garden. And they will also be free to leave.

Our great fence isn't a wall to divide people against each other. It's a fence to keep out rabbits, rats, chipmunks, squirrels, and javelinas.

Odds are, the smaller mammals can climb the fence, and we'll need bird netting for when anything gets close to being ripe, but the fence does give a sense of insular protection.

Perhaps it's a false sense, like the great rabbit-proof fence of Western Australia.

Still, it's an aesthetic of what can be done with an long and heavy iron pike, lots of skin-piercing aviary wire, nasty treated wood (warped as they are), ready-made (thank God) metal gate frames, a rake, concrete and plastic ties.

My work is largely done, although paths to two of the gates need improving. Now it's Shari's turn. She gets to turn the desert into a vegetable paradise. So far, she loves the morning watering of her little green babies.