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I wanted to do a printer test but found that the printer wasn’t properly registering the light light grey cartridge which seemed odd as the printer was about as new as possible.  I checked the technical documentation, ran through the Nintendo fix of remove, blow on the contacts, and replace and decided to call Epson.  Their technical support line is open from 8 AM to midnight six days a week which seemed exceptional and so I called around 11 PM.

Me: *Dial number, rings three times*
Other end: Epson Professional Technical Support, this is Matt how may I help you?
Me: *silence*
Other end: Hello?
Me: Yes, hi.  I was surprised a… person answered.
Other end: Yeah, we answer the phones ourselves except for periods of very high call volume.
Me: Ok, I’m having a problem with my Epson 4900. A cartridge isn’t being recognized.
Other end: I remember working on developing that printer.  Isn’t she a beaut?

He then walked me through the fix.  So, the phone was answered quickly, by a person, who spoke English, who worked on developing the product.  Assuming that policy doesn’t change and the printer neither stabs me nor burns my house down, I think my next printer will also be an Epson.

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My 115 lb printer was scheduled to be delivered sometime before 7 PM and as that hour approached my heart dropped thinking that I had taken a day off from work in vain.  I contacted the shipping firm who said they’d just be late and I nearly heal-clicked when the printer delivery fairy called me to ask for directions.  The printer delivery fairy in this case was large Hispanic name who told me to call him Chico.  When he got to my place, mine was the only item on his truck and I asked if mine was the only delivery.  He indicated that this was the fifth of the day and he was glad I helped him get the box out of his truck and into my house.  I picture him being like a ice cream truck but for massive printers as people run to his truck drawn by the sound of the Espon 4900 going through its self-test cycle.  You could identify where the truck had been by the sound of people shouting in glee that is somewhat muffled by the massive box.

The printer is big.  Here is me hiding behind it:

From 2011-08-18 Giant Printer

I look forward to actually printing something on it.

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I’ve been working odd hours for the last few weeks on a project that required little contact with other people.  My normal arrival time was somewhere around 4 PM and 2 AM and most of my coworkers haven’t said anything.  Today, on my way out around 11 AM I ran into the person who runs our cafeteria:

Her: Where have you been?  We’ve missed you.
Me: I’ve been working odd hours and my meal needs haven’t really synced with when the cafeteria was open.
Her: That doesn’t mean you can’t stop in and say hi.

The only person who noticed my absence from the normal work day was the head chef.  I’m not quite sure what this means.

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I’ve very enjoyed the process of printing and have spammed the walls of my workplace with prints:

Recently, I’ve had request for prints, and have also wanted to start printing bigger so I looked into a new printer and found that the Epson 4900 is $1000 off of $2500.  This is the largest coupon I’ve ever seen and after spending hours looking for the strings attached to it and checking to see if there was a newer printer queued to replace it I found a blog post somewhere that said “They do this sometimes to dick with HP”.  Sounds reasonable.

The Epson 4900 is a massive printer with a paper cartridge designed for 17″ x 22″ paper and ink cartridges big enough to store the fluids from exsanguinating a horse.  It has 11 ink catridges including two for colors I think Epson  invented (yurple and bleen).  Best of all, the cost per print was cheaper so I did the math on how many prints I’d have to make to break even.  The answer: 1700 13″ x 19″s.  At my current rate of printing, that’d only take 19 years.

On its way.

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I took a trip to New York with someone today and the number of strips of paper and bits of plastic required to run the whole loop were manifold.  This included:

1 Parking slip
2 Train tickets into the city
2 Subway tickets/Metro Cards
2 MTA tickets northbound
2 venue entrance tickets
2 MTA tickets southbound
1 Dinner reservation print out
2 Evening event tickets
2 Train tickets out of the city

16 clumps of atoms of some sort required plus keys, wallet, and notepad.  I’m glad the paperless world of tomorrow has arrived.

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Me: So, do you plan on seeing the New Planet of the Apes movie?
Joe: You mean Return to the Planet of the Apes?
Carl: Isn’t it Rise of the Planet of the Apes?
Me: Which was the one with DJ Marky Mark?
Joe: I think it was Return of the Rise of the Revenge of the Planet of the Apes.
Carl: Wasn’t it Back to the Return of the Rise of the Revenge of the Planet of the Apes Part II?
Me: No, I remember, it was the Return of the Rise of the Revenge of the Aftermath of the Planet of the Apes Part II Reloaded: Ariel’s Big Adventure.
Joe: Yeah, I think that’s the one.

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This weekend was looking to be a hot one and I was going to be trudging around an asphalt jungle in long pants so I stopped by Men’s Warehouse to see what options they had for pants cooler than the standard cotton I use, maybe a tissue chino or some other modern fabric.

Me: I’m looking for dress pants that are as thermally cool as possible.
Associate: Do you care about color?
Me: No, dark or light, doesn’t matter.
Associate:  Do you care what cut the legs are?
Me: No, as long as it covers them.
Associate: Then I know the perfect thing.  *Grabs pants* These are a traditional fabric being made of flax, with a stylish short leg cut, and…
Me: You’re proposing I wear linen manpris?
Associate: These also have a stylish draw string for an adjustable waste so that…
Me: Pardon, you’re proposing I wear draw string linen manpris?  I don’t consider those dress.
Associate: Well, it does absorb much more moisture before feeling damp, billows lightly, and gets softer as you wash them.
Me: None of those address the fundamental problem I have that you’re proposing I wear, with a straight face, drawstring linen manpris as a “dress pant”.
Associate: How about a light wool?
Me: Wonderful.

I miss you, Lee.

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I would have sold my trade stock the minute after the last Ockanickon Magic Tournament if I could have, but the guy I sell to had something called “sleep” he wanted to do when I called him at 11 PM yesterday.  So, today I packed my car with Magic cards and paraphernalia, drove to Moorestown, NJ and dropped off the rest of my once mighty collection.

Me: I want this out of my house.
Buyer: Ok, it’s going to take me a few hours to price this.  Do you want to wait?
Me: No, I just want this out of my house.
Buyer: So, just price it, cut you a check later?
Me: Yes, I just want this out of my house.

What remains of my collection is now tripartite:

  1. A deck built entirely out of 6″ x 9″ promotional cards from the 90s.
  2. My big box consisting of 3000 or so sleeved unique cards from between Urza’s Legacy and Zendikar.
  3. 1 Imperial Seal that has f-ing evaporated.

This I now have more off than Magic cards:

  • Star Trek: Collectible Card Game cards
  • Star Wars: Collectible Card Game cards

I’m not sure how to get rid of those.  Ebay, Craigslist, bonfire, or use them in some elaborate prank where I replace someone’s Vintage deck with my nigh unstoppable Soong-Type Android deck (it’s essentially the ST:CCG equivalent of Workshop).

An era of my leisure life is now closed.

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I went to Men’s Warehouse to get a shirt and go to talk to Lee:

Me: I’m looking for a few nice size 20 long-sleeved shirts.
Tailor: Why are you going that large?
Me: I’ve found that gives me the space I need in the paunch *points to gut*.
Tailor: You should be fine in a 18 or 19 *pulls out tape, measures neck* Yep, you’re a 18 and a half.  Try these.
Me: I don’t know.
Tailor: Who’s the tailor?
Me: *puts on shirt* Huh, it does fit.  But my other size 18.5s don’t.
Tailor: That’s because you’re buying crappy shirts.  What was rag, George Foreman Casual… Van Hausen?
Me: I don’t know [it was a van Hausen].
Tailor: Those are trash shirts, they make money by shorting you on fabric.  Stick with me and you’ll be never not fabulous.
Me: Thank you, Lee.

If only one day he’d look at me and say “Stick with me, kid, and I’ll make you a star”.