A Sweet Surprise & Fish Keeping Update

I am determined to establish a natural aquarium environment as taught by Father Fish, henceforth abbreviated as FF. Once there are plants and aquatic life established, adding microfauna and some decaying plant matter helps complete the natural cycle. He teaches how to harvest from a local water source. My two attempts failed, and while I can identify my major mistakes, I purchased two bags from FF’s online store.

My box arrived days past the carrier’s initial estimate during extremely hot weather. Among three plastic bags, the smallest clearly began as a chilling ice pack turned to very warm water. The other two contained rather stinky, lifeless looking black sludge.

I considered filing a complaint with the giant nationwide service provider but all the hoops they wanted me to jump through dissuaded me. Instead I reached out to the FF family for advice.

The 86 year old patriarch himself reached out, advising me to put the mixture into jars and look for signs of life. He added that the tiny animals are quite resilient.

From most companies, any such well wishes would have concluded their response. Not these folk, who run things far different. Without further ado they replaced my full order at zero (!) charge. I would have been happy to receive one unit and pay for shipping.

Have you enjoyed (or suffered) any extreme customer service experience(s)? In the event of a positive response, do you do everything you can to promote them?

PS This afternoon I presented FF’s pamphlet to the owner of Pawesome Pet Supplies. When an employee flipped through, she looked at her boss and exclaimed, “This is totally you!”

I passed this tiny strip mall probably near a thousand
times before noticing the cool shop...

PPS You know I’ll be a repeat customer to both Pawesome and FF.

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Rising with the Tide (I Hope)

I kept tropical fish for many years before two waves of total die-off broke my heart. Several weeks ago a neighbor asked about my tanks. I’d shown him, his wife, and young daughter (now starting at university!) so long ago that I’d completely forgotten both that visit and the fact the man himself is an enthusiastic aquarist.

Saddened my two tanks sat dormant, he told me about a natural system touted by a quirky older gentleman calling himself Father Fish. This octogenarian helped establish the United State’s National Aquarium, which I hadn’t even known existed.

I’m learning a lot. The most important lesson is to dismiss much of what the giant pet industry wants us to believe. I won’t bore you with details. Suffice it to say that I no longer plan to rely on old techniques.

Sad to say, I’ve already lost several fish. Three honey gourami died mysteriously over time. More recently, the ever present ich parasite reared its ugly head. My tiny pygmy rasboras are succumbing one by one.

At the first sighting of those telltale white specks I should have acted immediately and purchased a water heater I knew capable of reaching 86 degrees Fahrenheit instead of messing with a vintage model. This warming method is reliable against the cold water loving parasite and far more gentle than caustic chemicals. That ‘scientific’ treatment actually sped the demise of many prized specimens in 2019.

At the advice of an independent pet store owner I added more air stones as these temperatures do reduce oxygen levels. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll save the remaining rasboras and two seemingly healthy gourami.

That knowledgeable enthusiast advising me runs Pawesome Pet Supplies and Grooming. Besides offering great service, his place works with a small local cat adoption agency. Though I’d never seen any kitties on previous visits, this adorable gentleman made my acquaintance the other day.

Have you ever kept pet fish? Can you believe that my late, great freshwater clown loaches clicked in response to outside sounds?

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A Quick Movie Review of “Coyote vs. Acme”

My husband and I grew up watching Looney Toons, so missing “Coyote vs. Acme” at the cinema was unthinkable. And we don’t regret the time and money spent.

Each animated bit blended beautifully with the live action scenes. Individual cartoon character quirks were treated as gospel. In particular, the filmmakers showcased Wile E. Coyote’s silent communication skills in a top notch manner.

Laughing throughout the film’s runtime, I was moved by a few snippets. Those moments were a bit cheesy but forgivable and ultimately fun.

People never exposed to Looney Toons won’t have the same depth of experience. Still I believe the funny human/toon interactions and clever plot twists will entertain most any adult.

My biggest complaint regards it being marketed as a family film. The content is purely adult oriented despite the cartoonish slapstick.

At heart it’s a story of corporate malpractice and consumer abuse culminating in a courtroom procedural. And if you appreciate Greek mythology such as the torture of Sisyphus and have the intelligence to understand it, well, use your brain.

 No kid wants to see that, and the prepubescent girl and toddler among our tiny audience made their burgeoning boredom clear. At least they weren’t horrendously annoying.

I find it so cool that this script was loosely based on Ian Frazier’s 1990 New Yorker magazine article by the same name. I should track it down. Equally, my mind is blown by the fact that a tiny company called Ketchup Entertainment revived what Warner Bros. Discovery shelved as a 2023 tax write-off. After all, the original Warner Bros. Entertainment founded Looney Tunes in 1930.

If you have any interest, please purchase tickets because this studio deserves support that seems lacking. On a bright note, I interacted with a fan during a random encounter this afternoon. She and her boyfriend enjoyed the F out of it.

Oh, and there are plausible theories that the tax write-off was partly due to studio executives disliking the comparison to current practices. Hmmm... What a surprise. ~insert sarcasm~ Hollywood cretins prefer to laud the abusive studio system and hate on the mainstream audience.

Do younger generations know there was a time when movie houses were packed for limited showings? And that real human beings ran each projector?

A Change of Pace

I rediscovered a bit of old prose and thought sharing might make for a nice changeup. The sad tale is quasi biographical. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Internal Injuries

Kyle wiped an angry tear from his eye. He was twenty years old now, an adult, and had kept a vow to defend himself since he turned fifteen. High school bullies broke his nose more than once but he always ended the fight victorious.

So how is this shit still happening? he wondered.

It’s not like he could fight back, though. His mother deserved better. It was bad enough she witnessed her husband’s violent tendencies. Kyle’s fingernails dented his palms whenever he considered what he would do if the bastard ever raised a hand to her.

The pair’s relationship improved when Kyle began computer programming for the family business. When he asked for a shift change or at least a pay raise for working the only hours he could regularly see his girlfriend, the fragile fraternal respect crumbled.

“You can’t keep a job without me,” Kyle Senior barked, shoving his son backward. “You’re a worthless dreamer.”

The sudden vicious attack slammed him into a wooden cabinet, its sharp corner impacting his left shoulder blade. Kyle turned away before his face contorted and he stalked out of the house, finding refuge in his car.

With a low fuel tank and little cash, he basically idled to a nearby park. There in the dark he turned off the engine and punched the steering wheel until his scarred knuckles felt bruised as his back.

His old man wasn’t entirely wrong. Kyle’s beloved begged him to stop searching for that ‘perfect’ job and stand up to any employer, his father included, who took advantage of his naïve enthusiasm. Perhaps then, she claimed, their combined resources might afford them a tiny apartment.

His current paltry salary made that hope impossible. Kyle snorted and shook his head, grimacing at the sharp pain it sparked. Sonya couldn’t know about this. His ego battered enough, her finding out he’d been a punching bag tonight was unthinkable.

Nor would he cancel their next night’s date no matter how much his family pressured him to work his one night off. Pained experience taught him he’d hurt worse by then but somehow he’d hide it, even if that meant avoiding intimacy. Sonya must accept exhaustion as the cause.

Once home he slipped downstairs to his room, avoiding his brother’s eyes as they passed. He sunk back into the saggy mattress and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

Why is it that domestic abusers often target one offspring among siblings? Would you be interested in reading more (occasional) prose here?

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