Tuning In With Betsy  

I have a dear friend, well a few dear friends in Florida but this specific Dear Friend is in Palm Beach.

We were chatting about 3 weeks ago about casual shoes.  I told her what I prefer to wear, and she said, no problem, they carry that style at the local dollar store.

Palm Beach has Dollar Stores?  I guess after Bernie Madoff,  Hell yes,  they do.

Focus on the shoe story before i go into cardiac arrest thinking of that ***of a *****.

Hell's not hot enough for that *****.

Back to my story.

So Dear Diane, whom you might remember from my very first broadcast of Tuning in with Betsy, waaaay back in the winter of '06, sent my shoes.

I know I should NOT assume anything but i did assume, my new shoes would arrive via Canada Post.  In my mailbox.  And if I was not home, like the 3 Bears, Betsy Balega, would spot a red, white and blue notice from Canada Post, advising me to walk 2 blocks east to my local Hallmark Gift Shop/mini Post Office.

February 11 was depart day from Royal Palm Avenue.

February 20th and still no shoes.

What the hay?  Were they sent via the Ididirod and Dog Sled City?

Where are my shoes?

Oh.  Notice on the Bulletin Board in my building INTECOM OUT OF SERVICE.
Dated February 22nd.

Sheesh.  Doesn't the Postman ALWAYS  rings  twice?

For Pete's sake, I am in a Mack Sennett Comedy with no Postman, no sound and NO SHOES.

Dang.

Horse Dang (substitute a vowel and think camels in the desert).

By February 26th Diane emailed  the UPS Tracking Code Number to me.

I happened to notice a Long Distance call from the 905.  Is someone in Niagara looking for me, again?

Hmmmm.  I google UPS.  They are in the 905.  But I am in the 416.

That would be as if I sent you a pair of shoes, you live on the Upper East Side, and the UPS store is in Hoboken.

I am beginning to feel like a Hobo.  A shoeless Hobo.

John Steinbeck, where are you?   Haunting California.  Apropos.

UPS.  What happened to the US Post Office, you know the one  Diane, fire, flood, rain or shine the Pony ponies up to my buzzer code and delivers my shoes.

By March 1st I start to look for a Blacksmith.

UPS.  I am still dumbfounded, Thunderstruck as Angus sings.

What about Puralator?  Random House, Doubleday and every other NYC Publisher uses them.

The Puralator man is the best.  Always on time, never leaves a slip that says, hey Betsy, I tried to deliver this book, but you were at the Second Cup, I shall return at 7 pm tonight,  when you are either, showering, can't hear your buzzer, out for a hockey game, or sound asleep and oblivious to all sounds that sound like a bell, chime or a phone ringing.

I am beginning to wonder if my gal pal, Diane, went with UPS, just to see some hunky Delivery Man in his brown shorts.

Diane,  pleasssse, say it ain't so.

today, March 3, 2009, at approximately 5:15 my phone rang.

Ahhhh, the Intercom is restored.

Lazarus has arisen.

I buzz the UPS Man in, just in time to enjoy my slippers tonight.

Until he hands me the Tax Bill for me to sign and pay $35.

Wait a minute, the calculator in my mind is whizzing faster than Univac did in 1956.
(Remember People Are Funny, Art Linkletter had IBM's first computer on his show one night, guest starring.  It was bigger than Granny's Fridgidaire x2).

I thought Diane got it for me wholesale $10 - plus UPS Charges and now $35 in tax.

Are you kidding?

A pair of shoes from the Dollar Store in Palm Beach is now getting to be the price of a theatre seat, Opening NIght in Toronto, for The Color Purple.

I can go to Honest Ed's and get the same dang shoes for what, maybe $5 Canadian.

I sent the shoes home to Diane.

You have heard of the Travelling Pants, well look forward to a new play opening some day called The Travelling Shoes.

Written by moi and starring Palm Beach Diane.

Pass the Merlot, Girlfriend.