Mature Life Features

Cecil Scaglione, Editor

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You Need a Computer …      

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…to fix your phone.

 My Panasonic landline phone receiver had an irritating glitch that I decided had to be eliminated after putting up with it for more than a week.

Where the time sits and caller ID appears when the phone rings was a constant message about getting a voice mail from my server. I don’t use voice mail and have no clue how to retrieve any voice mail I receive. And the light on the receiver that blinks ever five seconds when I have missed a call kept on blinking every five seconds.

So I called AT&T to stop this stuff.

After several stops and goes with Mr. Robot Answerer, I was directed to a human. I could hold or opt for a call back. I decided to hold on for “between 7 and 8 minutes.” Then a real person – her name was Sally — asked me what my problem was and transferred me to tech support after I told her about my problem. After a few more minutes of music, the phone went dead. I had been lopped out of the system.

So I called back. Mr. Answerer and I danced around several more rounds despite my asking for a human being time after time. The woman who answered — her name was Helen – transferred met tech service again and I got talking to a woman from somewhere across the Pacific.

It sounded like she was working in a police-station radio room. She asked me for my phone number and clicked in and out a couple of times, then for name, which I had to spell out for. Then she needed my account number, which I had handy in the monthly statement I get from AT&T.

She asked for my telephone number again and was unable to find my phone number, account number or name. So I asked to speak to her supervisor, which she agreed to willingly. However, her supervisor was busy and he would have to call me. His name was Ray.

Is was calling on my cell phone, which I use rarely but felt it was a good idea because I could them have them work on my land line while conversing on my cell phone.

I made a quick trip to the bathroom and heard the cell phone buzzing so I dashed back and the caller hung after two buzzes (rings). So I called that number back and got Mr. Answerer again.

After our verbal dance, and a chat with another female – her name was Vera – I was transferred to tech support again. This time was a charm.

The tech person found my phone and didn’t need the account number but pointed out I had to call the maker of telephone and he would get me the customer support number.

With the Panasonic number given to me, I got Mr. Answerer’s counterpart at Panasonic. I was told I could hold on or ask for a call back in “eight to nine minutes.” I decided to hold on – and on and on and on and on.

I hung up after about 30 minutes and redialed the number and waited about 20 minutes before hanging up.

While awaiting connections all through this process, I managed to pay a few bills and retrieved the instruction booklet that came with the Panasonic telephone when it was purchased. The booklet didn’t help.

So I decided to ask Google how the heck I could get rid of the message on the Panasonic.

And out came a page with instructions.

Simply hold down the # button for eight seconds and the message will disappear, it said.

It did. And so did the light.

This whole process covered some six hours when all I had to do was ask my computer.

Written by Cecil Scaglione

September 20, 2021 at 10:31 pm

Catching Up is Hard to Do

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This will be an introduction to my world since we were blocked from this blog in the summer of 2018.

I’m ensconced in a roomy one bedroom apartment in Sunrise of Gilbert, an independent- and assisted-living complex about a mile and a quarter south of downtown Gilbert, one of the two dozen cities that comprise Maricopa County, Arizona, probably better known as metro Phoenix with more than 4.5 million people.

It came to light in a recent conversation that Phoenix is one of the few, if not the only, major U.S. cities that does not have a Little Italy.

The move to this 144-unit building that houses up to 172 people was made 4 1/2 years ago as part of the Californians’ exodus to Nevada, Utah, Texas, and Arizona, turning this long-time staunchly red state into a California-like blue one. Much has changed since the move so there’ll be more on that in the next few installments as I get back up to speed on blogging.

Life here is eventful because they’ve moved me into a volunteer spot as a community ambassador. There are three of us, one on each floor. Among other things, such as supporting staff at community-wide events and spreading the news of developments as they occur, we meet, greet and give an orientation session to newbies. And looking around the dining room now, there are more post-pandemic newbies than pre-pandemic residents here now. That gives you some idea of the turnover, from deaths and movements from this side of the building — independent-living — to the other side — assisted-living — where constant care is required and provided.

There are more than 300 Sunrise locations around the U.S. and Canada (they recently sold a few hundred properties in Britain) but only a handful offer both independent/assisted living services. The massive bulk are assisted-living only.

What stands out at Sunrise, according to the consensus, is the friendly neighborly feeling of each community. Our activities director Mary Weaver works her butt off coming up with events that divert and entertain — theater outings, drives to Jerome, regular shopping trips, jaunts to favorite restaurants, television and slide presentations, swimming-pool nights, BBQs, bingos, card-playing sessions, Western Days, andonandonandon…

I still get out for a bike ride every day, anywhere from three to 8 miles, depending on how I feel, the weather and time of day. Some days I skip it all together. Today, I stopped by the Post Office to mail a couple of packages, picked up a prescription at CVS and stopped at Albertson’s to pick up some chicken wings.

When I got home, computer guru Steve Gubka was waiting in the lounge with news: “I got into your blog,” he said.

We spent the next 90 minutes getting my blog open and me familiar with its new look and operation. And that’s how you got this.


Written by Cecil Scaglione

September 7, 2021 at 5:56 pm

Posted in A Musing, Uncategorized

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The Blogger’s Back…

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It’s been quite awhile since we last posted here. And a lot has happened since.

Don’t know wot happened way back then but we’ll get you caught up on happenings …

Written by Cecil Scaglione

September 7, 2021 at 1:17 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

There May no Longer come a Time in a Man’s Life . . .

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. . . because that magazine also could be headed for oblivion (just like Life).

Written by Cecil Scaglione

June 2, 2018 at 2:33 pm

Posted in A Musing, Uncategorized

Tagged with , , ,

Finally Found Out …

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… how to read traffic signals in Aridzona:




Written by Cecil Scaglione

June 21, 2017 at 7:57 am

Natural Selection no Longer Applies . . .

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11-152364466. . . to the human race because rapid and extensive advances in

the medical and scientific fields have created an intellectual imbalance by

keeping so many idiots alive.

Written by Cecil Scaglione

January 29, 2016 at 9:52 am

At My Age …

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smartcat. . . it’s easy to tell when I’m awake:

I’m either hungry or have to go to the bathroom.


Written by Cecil Scaglione

January 22, 2016 at 11:05 pm

Posted in A Musing, Uncategorized

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When in Drought . . .

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. . . as in California, drink the beer ! ! !

— Cecil Scaglione


Written by Cecil Scaglione

November 13, 2015 at 6:48 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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