iPhone crawls out of ranch dressing puddle

It’s mid-May and here in Santa Barbara, where the Jacaranda trees are beginning to bloom. Anomalously, the normal “May Gray” (early morning fog followed by afternoon blue sky) has been replaced by all-day fog punctuated by rain about twice a week. This ‘never’ happens in Santa Barbara. (We’re at 600% of normal rain for May.) On the other hand, the local reservoirs are full for the first time in a decade.

For Mother’s Day, we had Sunday Brunch in Los Olivos with Mitra, Melika, Tom and the Santa Barbara grandchildren. This was followed by an excursion to a winery owned by Melika’s friends. The boys liked to watch the lizards (or, as Arrow calls them, ‘wizzards&rsquoWinking and pushing, or riding in, Azelle’s stroller.
Blue-Jacaranda-beautiful-tree-960x720

During a related dinner party, Tiger, who was watching a video of himself swimming, dropped my iPhone into a bowl of ranch dressing. Everything seemed to continue to work…

“… except when people talk, it sounds like they are submerged in a bowl of ranch dressing,” I explained to the Apple hardware repair person.

“Ranch dressing?”
lizzard in los olivos

“It could be Bleu cheese. I assume it’s covered under the warranty.” I replied. “No croutons,” I thought.

Astonishingly, it
was covered. Apple replaced everything on the iPhone. For free. Except that they lost all my photos. Luckily I am a professional, so I had all the photos backed up on my computer. And, when I connected the iPhone to the computer, all the photos actually reappeared. But…

“… for some reason,” I complained to Nazy, “the email system also re-sent every meeting acceptance or rejection that I had received in the last six years. I got page after page of meeting responses.”

“Why did it do that?” Nazy asked, reasonably.

“I don’t know,” I ‘explained’.

arrow, tiger and azelle Mothers day May 2019

This was ‘water safety’ week at the boys’ swimming class. This meant that the lads should ‘swim’ in their street clothes (and shoes) so that they’ll build confidence in case they fall into the pool unexpectedly.

Last year, Tiger refused to participate. He wouldn’t even get out of the car and he rejected all attempts to discuss the situation. Since a simple (grand)parental edict hadn’t worked in 2018, I tried an alternative approach …

“… so, Tiger, they want you to swim with your clothes — and shoes on…”

“Dan! That is so stupid.”

“I know, but they are doing it for safety reasons. It is hard to get out of the pool if you’re wearing clothes and shoes.”

“I can..”

“I think that you can do it, but
Dylan doesn’t believe you’re strong enough.” [Dylan is the swim teacher.)

“I am
very strong, Dan.” Tiger replied. He was actually flexing his muscles.

I know that but Dylan…” I left the sentence dangling.

I will show Dylan.” Tiger, clearly insulted, replied.

Tiger jumping in pool with clothes safety test May 2019

And, he did. Paradoxically, safety ‘week’ continues for two weeks, so we have one more week to go. I’m working on the follow-up..

“.. And Dylan says that if you can climb out this week, you’ll get an orange wrist band. You’ll be reclassified as a cosmic, universal, safety guru.”

“What’s a guru, Dan?”

“Someone very strong.”

“Okay.” Tiger replied. “
I can do that,” Tiger thought.


Arrow chose to emulate Tiger’s 2018 response — and he wasn’t flummoxed by the ‘Dylan says’ ploy.

But both boys agreed to get haircuts this week. The change on Arrow was especially dramatic.

arrow and tiger haircuts

I’ve also been taking Arrow to MyGym on Saturday mornings.

“So Arrow,” I said as we were driving, “we’re going to YourGym.”

“MyGym, Dan.” Arrow corrected.

“That’s what I said: YourGym.”

“No, Dan. It’s..”

He likes playing in the (plastic) ball pit, walking on the balance beam, j
umping on the trampoline, zooming down the slide and driving his ‘car’ through the bubble-filled “carwash”.

Arrow at mygym May 2019


On Thursday, I had an ear appointment, a business meeting and a family social dinner/theatre engagement in Los Angeles this week. This means…

“… unfortunately, Nazy,” I explained, “that we will have to drive to Los Angeles — and, as part of the experience, we will sit, motionless, on the 405 and 101 Freeways while our life force drains away.

“So it won’t be a pleasant trip?”

“Is a root canal pleasant? Is chalk screech on a blackboard fun? Is a ‘
presidential’ tweet coherent?”

We first visited UCLA in search of a technical fix to return hearing to my defective left ear.

Flashback 2004: I deplaned at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport, walked toward the taxi stand and realized that I couldn’t hear from my left ear. I visited a physician who told me that I had ‘a cold’. I returned home that weekend — with my defective ear. I went an urgent care facility where I was told that I had a cold. They prescribed nose drops. My confidence in this diagnosis was obviously limited. (“
If they can’t tell the difference between my nose and my ear,” I thought, “well….” i went to an ear specialist on Monday and was told that

“You have ‘Sudden Hearing Loss’.”

“No kidding.” I responded.
“We don’t know what causes it, we don’t know how to cure it, and we don’t know if it will ever go away.” The specialist continued, ‘helpfully’.

So, ‘hear’ I was, 15 years later looking for a solution that would..

“.. either return full functionality to my left ear, or if that’s not possible, at least fix things so that I can function in a crowded room and tell which direction sound are coming from.” I explained.

“After evaluating your test results,” the doctor, who arrived very late, replied, “We have several solutions, but none of them will restore your hearing, work in a crowded room or provide improved directional ability.”

“Well, that’s just great,” I replied. “
That sucks,” I thought as we dashed out of the clinic.

Nazy and I ‘zipped’ down the 405 toward Marina Del Rey, where I had my meeting. Then we headed back toward Hollywood for a nice dinner, (a Mothers’ Day/birthday gift from Melika) with Mitra and Stefan before walking across the street to see Les Miserables. We were taking a selfie, when a kind person offered to take the photo for us..

He clicked away, turned toward his wife releasing the tension that was holding a bottle of gin in position under his coat. Gravity took over and, when
the bottle hit pavement, gin (and glass chards) were accelerated on a parabolic trajectory. An alcoholic scent began to fill the air. Security was called. So…

We thanked our kind (but clumsy) photographer before heading home.

Nazy, Dan, Mitra, Stefan


nazy, dan, mitra, stefan at Les Miserables

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