Greetings Earthlings!

Welcome, readers. Biographyjar.com has existed to tell my views and life story, complete with zombies. I merged a zombie blog into a biography blog and created… ummm, I’m not sure what. But I renewed the blog anyway. Enjoy.

Reader’s Magnet has accidentally linked to this blog, rather than my education blog. If you are interested in general education topics and my life experiences as a teacher, try https://www.eduhonesty.com, now over 10 years old. It’s nowhere near reaching influencer status, but it does have almost 20,000 users, many of whom I suspect of being real humans and not bots. 

Should you wish to order my book on the deteriorating state of US education, type “Fighting the White Knight Jocelyn Turner” into a search engine. It’s available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other sites. Prices vary so it’s worth shopping a bit. I am excited that “Fighting the White Knight” was exhibited at the 2023 San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books and the 2023 Printers Row Lit Fest in Chicago!

More information is available at eduhonesty.com — including my email and various social media links.

Why order my book? It’s honest. I don’t pretend we can fix education by improving pedagogy. Reader, are you tired of clueless pundits pushing cheap, simple solutions to expensive, complex problems? Me too!

In fact, I’m exhausted.

Zombie phrase for the day: Good intentions are killing us.

Gooooduddehhnchuhhns ahhhr gihwinguzzz.

What’s in this blog? Zombie phrases for 2023 (same as last year and years before that), random life coaching advice of a sometimes dubious nature, along with stories about invisible slugs and carpet purchases. Go back far enough and you will find tips on how to survive Z Day. Some teaching experiences have managed to bleed into biographyjar, but I have tried to keep work and fantasy/personal life separate.

I Miss the Zombies

In old movies, sometimes humanity came together to meet the alien threat. We have never needed an alien threat more desperately. Or zombies. Or even wookies or vampire accountants. We need to take our minds off each other. Because we cannot keep sniping at each other like this.

We might start by agreeing that any evidence that does not match our preconceived notion of the truth should not be reflexively rejected. Just because a person doesn’t like the evidence, that doesn’t make the pictures on the screen into deep fakes. I understand how tough this is. Hell, we’ve reached the point where we can make Godzilla look real.

So we need to exercise our common sense, while understanding that Fred on the other side of the political divide may be coming from a different set of premises. Fred’s deep fake may not be our deep fake. Fighting over the evidence will not help. Evidence we don’t like becomes just another Godzilla nowadays.

We can’t keep playing a game of Pick Your Godzilla.

MY ADVICE: Get your phones out, readers. Keep your phones out. Get your footage out into cyberspace. Enough phones and we might slaughter at least a few of the latest monsters. Enough phones and people may again begin to believe what their eyes are telling them.

This Is Your Stop

My dog Lady has an excuse for being ignorant of what is going on around her. Despite having 17 identifiable breeds in her DNA, my mutt struggles to recognize the command “speak” — forget inconvenient commands like “come,” which mostly works at home unless she sights a squirrel, and seldom works at the dog park until she is exhausted. But Lady aside, the rest of us should probably pause more often to place ourselves firmly in time and space.

Reader, are you having fun yet? Do you like how you are spending your time? Or do you miss old friends? Maybe you miss favorite places and activities that you somehow never manage to fit into the week? Wonder why it’s been so long since you last made chocolate chip cookies, clam chowder or blueberry pie? People have become so crazy busy today that hours disappear one by one, the hours becoming days, days becoming weeks, weeks becoming years and voilá! We’ve crossed the bridge into 2026.

If that last paragraph resonates with you, reader, I’d like to suggest you grab your laptop or just a pen and paper. Write down the people you want to see or at least call. Make a list of pursuits and projects you want to somehow stuff into 2026. While this approach does not always work, writing desires down and then putting those plans in plain sight does help many people to focus. You might tape your list inside a cupboard, put it under a refrigerator magnet or just leave it on a desk. Whatever works for you.

Because regular reminders can change how a day unfolds. Each day is one of the bricks in our individual timelines — and one more chance to make tomorrow better.

The Saga of AT&T — A Cautionary Tale of AI, Outsourcing, and Sheer Insanity

Prelude: My spouse and I planned to move from AT&T to Consumer Cellular last September. We backed out of our plan, though, and returned to AT&T after less than a week, in return for new phones and some other perks. I should emphasize that we never had a problem with Consumer Cellular. For nearly half a year, phone life appeared to have gone back to normal. But then some version of AT&T AI discovered that, for an unknown reason, my phone number had never been retrieved from Consumer Cellular. My spouse’s number had come home, but not mine. The automated system solved its problem in an unexpected fashion and the following is that story:    

It began on a Friday, early in February. At 12:33, I received a text message from AT&T that said: “Hi, it?s AT&T. Your number change is now complete. Your wireless number ending in **36 has been changed to 309******* and you can start using it right away.”

Below this message, my phone said, “The sender is not in your contact list. Report Junk.”

I had never asked for a change. I had never wanted a change. The message punctuation was funky. What was that question mark? I deleted the message. Just more spoofing, right?

I went on to a fun afternoon in Chicago, hanging my art in a science fiction-related art show and then attending live panels on biochemistry and writing poetry. Check out capricon.org, reader, if you are looking for a February science fiction convention. This last year’s theme was “Let Your Geek Flag Fly.” I was happily letting my flag fly.

But back to the AT&T story. Driving home, I called an anonymous Agent of Shield multiple times. Fortunately, I left messages that were, well, me… One example:

“The sign said there was supposed to be a traffic slowdown, but it didn’t happen. So I can’t hang up because the red button’s not on the screen, Siri’s not answering and I can’t look for the phone. Too much traffic. Sorry about the long message.”

The Agent of Shield called me back, recognizing my inimitable style and told me my calls were coming in on a weird, unfamiliar number.

This was when I discovered that the text from AT&T had been legitimate — if any sudden, unsolicited change of a phone number without forewarning can be called legitimate. On the issue of forewarning, I loved the AT&T rep who later said they sent me an email beforehand. She then asked if I had checked my spam folder. Er, no, I don’t usually read spam. I did check the folder after I spoke with her. I never found that email nor the alleged text from them. Though if the text came in loaded with strange question marks and other wacky punctuation, I might have deleted it. I don’t think I did. I undeleted all my recent texts to find the alleged text. Hundreds of pleas for political contributions re-flooded my box. No AT&T messages were among them. I had to re-delete all those texts, of course.

On February 9th, I drove straight from the convention to the AT&T store in Wheeling, Illinois. I trusted them to help, and I still expected to be able to fix this problem. Within a few days, I would begin to feel unsure that I could fix it — not without changing carriers — but I persevered. I probably persevered for 18 plus full hours on the phone, not including store visits. If any readers are AT&T customers in the Chicagoland area, I will recommend the Wheeling AT&T store on Dundee, although they are under new management now. But Tony and others there definitely tried. They spent over an hour the first time, calling AT&T, talking to people, trying to figure out what was happening with my phone number, and then trying to locate someone – anyone — who could fix it. Finally, though, they told me to go home, when they could not reach anyone who could help me. Call “611” they said. They even gave a script to use to try to jump levels of support. It didn’t work, but I appreciated the effort.

AT&T customers can use the number “611” to go directly to support — I should say to be put directly on hold, both short holds and long holds. I strongly recommend the option where you push a number so they can call you back when they manage to get around to you.

I recorded a “33 minute” outgoing call to AT&T on the 9th at 7:33 PM. My first solo attempt to figure out what was going on. Looking back, the zombies had shuffled over the hill, but I was so distracted I barely thought about the implications of what was happening. Incidentally, you can’t count those 33 minutes as the total time. I’m sure the phone stops counting when they transfer you, and I was repeatedly transferred and transferred and transferred. More on that later.

Back to the phone log: I call “611” again on 2/10/25. It says 1 hour 53 minutes — but you can’t trust the numbers, as will be clear later on.

I call again on 2/16/25. This might have been the four hour call, a monstrous nightmare of transfers. Let me explain how this goes: You get a tech support person. They may or may not appear to understand the situation. You have to repeat the whole story even though supposedly everyone is taking notes. Supposedly there are case files filled with notes. A couple of tech support persons have been excellent. Most were barely adequate, if that. None of them solved the problem.

I call again on 2/22/25. One hour 12 minutes listed. Seemed much longer. I’m sure it was much longer. See the call from 2/27/2025 below.

There are 4 calls on 2/28/25. A couple more hours of my life wasted and gone.

Why the numbers are inexact: I called on 2/27. My phone says I called at 2:26 PM Outgoing call. This is important: The phone log says the call lasted 3 minutes. Why I believe the log ends as soon as they transfer you: Because I did not get off that call until about 5:45. My friend Bhagya spent an hour visiting during the call. We let the puppies play while I went on and off hold. My first tech guy was great, but he did not understand what he was up against. I explained it all again. I told him I had been transferred to the porting department four times already. (Looking back I think it was five or six times if you count three-way calls with Consumer Cellular. Those calls are on my spouse’s phone.) Transfers never worked. But “L” believed in himself. He tried and he tried. He initiated a 3-way call with Consumer Cellular. Lots of repeating the old information. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Consumer Cellular gives us a new porting pin. Then the fatal blow: “L” transfers me to the Ports Activation Center. THIS HAS NEVER WORKED BEFORE. ANY CALL TO PORTS ACTIVATION ALWAYS DEAD ENDS. I warn “L,” but he believes he can solve my problem. I know I am about to fall into a black hole, but I thank him profusely anyway. So much effort on this diligent tech’s part. Alas, now I will lose him forever. AT&T tech support people do not have extensions. There is no way to call them back.

And maybe the brand new porting pin will help, I think, one last burst of … not optimism, only the faintest ray of hope. But the pin does not work. More conversations with AT&T porting employees in another country. I struggle to understand their questions sometimes. I am a former bilingual teacher and I am quick at picking up accents. But some of the employees in ports activation are definitely fighting language barriers on top of my peculiar situation.

Well, once again, my whole afternoon has vanished. I had a zoom call set up for 5 and I texted that I was on hold with AT&T so I would be late. That was at 5:04. I finally got off hold (over half hour listening to mind-numbing muzak) and spoke to “M” at AT&T customer service — until about 5:45 when I gave up. Tech support rep “M” actually TOLD me to give up. It can’t be done, she says. The number can’t be found. Except the ports guy said they had the number and it was right there. I ask for a manager. “M” does not help. She says she cannot transfer me to a manager. She cannot escalate, she says, and maybe she is right. There have been two special case files established. Both were closed. No one above Maria’s level has talked to me for well over a week. No one above her level has ever called me, except from Consumer Cellular.

They did try to call my spouse, who is the technical account holder, but he has fumbly fingers from essential tremor and did not get to the calls in time. This is normally no problem. He checks the phone log and returns the call. Except AT&T never leaves a callback number. Once, it seems so long ago, I briefly spoke with a supervisor who had called him. But she disappeared. She probably tried to call him. But those calls did not work. Two closed case files. No way to talk to anyone more than once unless they call back. They don’t.

No one from AT&T ever called me, even though I tried to get them to put my new phone number in the last case file. No one called. Or said anything as they closed those special case files. As far as I can tell, all they managed to do was to try repeatedly to port over a number that for some reason could not be ported. I can’t even be sure of that.

Here is where I strongly suspect AI enters the picture. I told my story to many people. A number of customer service reps appeared to understand and seemed entirely competent as they tried to find a work-around fix. Others radiated confusion, however. They had a script they were following and the “system changed my phone number” was nowhere within their script. They were completely lost when the script failed. Nothing within their authority could solve the problem. No had enough agency or authority to go off-script. One man in the Ports Activation Center actually accused me of having gone into a store where, he insisted, I must have changed my own number. He told me righteously that the number could not have been changed any other way. Another man in Ports hung up on me, I’m fairly sure. They can’t technically hang up on you from Ports — you have to hit the end button yourself– but they can transfer you to some weird number which says that “you are not authorized to call this number.” That transfer ends your entire multi-hour call in a heartbeat.

The upshot of this tale is that I now have two carriers. I have two numbers. For multiple reasons, I had to reclaim my old number.  This two-number system is working fine except for the obvious extra cost.  Reader, did you know your one cellphone can have two sim cards and two separate carriers? It can!

On the issue of customer support, I will say that if you want support, I strongly recommend Consumer Cellular, which advertises 100% US-based customer service. You can always reach a friendly, helpful non-AI human.

As to AT&T, well, they never did solve my number problem. I loved the part where customer support kept trying to upsell me a new, additional line for only $10 more per month — a brand new line that could not be given my decades-old phone number which AT&T had never managed to retrieve.

The Delete Button Is Your Friend

What is that italicized “Z” or the off-center popsicle inside the anonymous purple block? Zedge, the “Z” app says. I look up Zedge. It’s a wallpaper app. But I create my own wallpaper, using personal pics. Yummly tells me it has a new privacy policy — pages and pages of a new privacy policy, written in 2024 legalese. I solve Yummly quickly, holding my finger on the screen until wobbly minus buttons appear. Bam! I don’t have to read a word. Wemo says I’ll need to create a Wemo account soon. No, I think, you are not the boss of me, Wemo. Medium wants to tell me how to know if I am really in love. At this age, if I can’t figure that out for myself, Medium will not save me.

Delete, delete, delete.

Is today a good phone cleaning day?

It’s easier to see what lurks in the forest when excess trees are removed. Maybe this is a good day to scrutinize your colorful screen? Group the apps more efficiently, if nothing else? Phones have become the rooms some of us almost never take time to clean.

Zombie Phrase for the Day: It’s hard to tap with missing fingers. I want my fingers back.

Izzzzarrrddh doo dapp bi bibbing binguhhhzzz. Uhhbahhn bai binguhhzzz bahhh.

Not Dead Yet! Scribbles from February 2025…

Whole Foods saves my con
I don’t know Friday’s secret —
The room that hides food

(There was no con suite at the science fiction convention due to contract issues. Con suites usually provide quick food and snacks, but corkage fees shut that down, leaving us glad to move on. New hotel please! I cannot recommend the Sheraton Riverwalk in Chicago. It’s not friendly, either deliberately or incidentally. And that woman in the coffee shop just sounded too damn sick. )

To my readers: This is a good day to look up nearby science fiction conventions, Comic Cons, renaissance faires, or other events such as the Oddities and Curiosities Expo. Maybe a favorite comedian?

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Albert and I Fight the Pressure Sore

I sketch a dumb tree (maybe it can talk, but it’s not talking to me), avoid my aches, and crazy or not crazy, while eating frijoles, I wait for the dark, brown matter to hit the fan. (Not the frijoles, of course.) The last few months have definitely not been part of the master plan.

Too long in too many hospital beds and now the Godzilla sized monster that is the pressure sore, a sad consequence of hospitalization #2.

Anyone with a relative in the hospital: Make sure staff is shifting that person’s position regularly.

T

Sometimes the Lists Are Too Long and We Should Eat Scones with Delicious Coffee in the Backyard Instead


Reader, are you always struggling to complete your lists? Or your more informal day’s plans? If the list/plans regularly end in loose, even tattered, ends, I’d like to make a suggestion. Stick the list in the recycling and/or simplify the plan.

As they say nowadays: Just chuck it in the fuck-it bucket.

†

Passing Down Our Lore

In September of 2021, I weighed 123.8 pounds, and I guess I cared because I wrote that down. In July of 2024, I weigh 123 odd pounds as well. I got that weight-recording thing from my mom. She repeatedly told the story of her Aunt Ethel, who was apparently so obese that she got stuck inside her claw-footed bathtub. Family members had to call the fire department so that a group of (hopefully) strange men could extricate the unfortunate woman. I can’t even imagine that scene. One sign of Ethel’s humiliation and trauma: My great-aunt’s story stuck forever in my mom’s brain, and subsequently in mine.

So I track numbers. It’s relatively harmless, I suppose. We carry the baggage of our families pasts, some of us more than others.

A biojar observation: It’s good to make a note of the past and our related eccentricities. The past can inform the future. But Great-aunt Ethels should never be driving our decisions. The past is nothing more than wisps of memory, corrupted by time. On any day, at any time, we can let the lessons of the past go, blow a kiss to Aunt Ethel and move on.

Today’s poem, which began as a haiky and sprawled out from there:

Do you suffer from
Symptoms, syndromes, sickness, nerves?
Money runs downhill
In the bubble chamber of paranoia,
Backed by creeps and crawlies,
Big Pharma’s children —
Round green, new blue, and classic white,
Triangular, trapped molecules,
Shared with frightened social media users,
Who breathe and swallow deep,
As they plunge down, down, down
Into Sackler-type rabbit holes.

Jocelyn Turner

I recommend the Netflix series “Painkiller.” Even if you’ve read about the opioid epidemic, the series fleshes out a great deal of detail that gets lost in print.

Zombie phrase for the day: We need self-driving cars.

Eeeeedeeedehhlbb diybihhh gahhhrzs.

Angel in the Infield

Believe. Believe a life written in moments,

Moments remembered

 and moments lost in time,

Becomes more than memories,

More than lost knowledge.

Flexing and fluxxing, flowing into

New Years and new years,

One after another,

As art equals life and life art —

While beliefs struggle for and against

Lifelong learning.

Who I am is not who I was,

Nor who I will be tomorrow.

I am the river as well as the stone

by Jocelyn The Plaid

TO KNOW THE DARK

A POEM BY WENDELL BERRY 

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,

and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

The next total solar eclipse falls on August 12, 2026. This eclipse will pass over the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans, Greenland, Iceland, Portugal, and northern Spain. It’s definitely not too soon to start planning.

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