1352 Kaleidoscope

Thursday, July 5, 2007

A few weeks ago I discovered that a friend had never seen the Mt Tremper kaleidoscope, the world's largest (at 60 feet - you lie on the floor inside). So today we went to see it.

He picked me up this morning, and we drove to Mt. Tremper. I was surprised to see that there were actually tubers on the Esopus. They must be doing a lot of portaging, because there's almost no water in the creek. Even when the water is high and fast, one of the hazards is hitting your backside (hanging down through the center of the tube) on rocks. I bet there'll be a lot of bruised tourist bottoms this evening!

We wandered through all the shops surrounding the kaleidoscope. They have a lot of beautiful stuff, very expensive, but not overpriced. There's a kaleidoscope store, full of handmade kaleidoscopes of every description, every material, and you can look through all of them.

Then we settled on the floor in the monster kaleidoscope for the 10-minute show. It's pretty good, but mainly it's just being able to say you've seen it.

Back through the shops again. In the country store, the clerk offered me a taste of biscotti, chocolate, no less, "Try this, it'll change your life!" She didn't understand why I cracked up. Giggled for a half hour. Private joke. Don't ask.

We had a late lunch at a restaurant recommended by a clerk, who said that if we wanted burgers, we wouldn't find it there, but "blah blah Culinary Institute blah delicious food blah blah." It was quite a ways up the road, but we found it, and it was a sandwich joint! We'd imagined white tablecloths and flowers, and got sticky formica and ordinary food. Must be friends of the clerk.

We consulted the map, looking for a back-route home, and ended up swinging around and coming down Platte Clove Road. That's another experience he had missed, and another of those things you have to do once. It's pretty scary, but the view down down down into the clove is worth it.

We passed the sign for Opus 40, and lo, he didn't even know what that is, so there's another expedition for sometime. I can't believe he's lived in this area for decades, and missed so much.

We ended up in Rhinebeck, dinner at the Mill House Panda.

I got home about 8:30. It was a very nice day.

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There was one major disappointment today. The last time I went to the Rive Gauche Moroccan night, I tried to call a few days ahead for reservations, and was told that they didn't take reservations until the day before the event. So I held off calling until this afternoon, and then when I tried, we were up in the mountains, and there was no cell signal. I wasn't able to call until late afternoon, and was then told that they were full, no more room.

Ack!

Willow is dancing tomorrow night, and we can't get in? I might have to go and press my nose against the window glass. I'll have to find some tattered rags to wear.

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1351 Aural Pyrotechnics

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

I joined FW at Omega at 5 pm. She bought her drum in the bookstore. It's small, very prettily painted in a rainbow of colors and swirling patterns. She's very pleased with it. I thought it was shockingly expensive. The head is tacked and glued, which means that when it stretches, you can't tighten it. There was another plain one with a roped head that I recommended (you tighten it by slipping wedges under the ropes), for slightly over half the price of the one she liked, but she wanted a pretty one. I guess it doesn't matter so much how it plays as how you feel when you play it, so maybe the pretty one was the best choice for her.

The food at Omega is excellent, if you don't mind a dearth of meat. Before we went to the bookstore I had some cucumber yogurt soup in the cafe, that was perfectly seasoned with some unidentified herb. A buffet dinner was served in the dining hall. The only meat was lemon tilapia. I don't usually care for fish, but this was delicious. I had two pieces. The other protein was roasted tofu. Again, a surprise. It had been tossed in tahini before roasting, and it was perfect. I had two servings of that, too. The salad dressing was a neon green house creation involving bananas, some exotic fruits, and mint. Very good. Everything was good, even the steamed broccoli and the rice salads, both herbed perfectly.

I recommend dinner at Omega. You stop by the Guest Services office, sign in and buy a $10 dinner ticket, and show up at the dining hall.

The concert was free. I didn't write down the guy's name, figuring I could find him on the internet - but the Omega online calendar doesn't list the concerts! Oh well. I liked his voice on the ballads, and he certainly can play the guitar, but most of the selections were very raucous, very hard rock, and even on most of the "softer" stuff he beat the guitar up so brutally it drowned out his voice. He did some interesting vocal things, and some of the songs (his own) were funny or poignant, and I'd have liked to have heard them more clearly.

So, a good evening.
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1350 Beautiful!

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

[If you're on feed, and don't see the video, click on the blog title.]

Just found this. Very different, and beautiful. I don't know what that metal doohicky on the left is, but I love it! I want one! I want to touch it! Anyone know what it's called?


More! I've found a new love!!!!


I'm on a roll here.... It's called a "Hang Drum", invented in Switzerland in about 2001, and difficult to find in the states. Also expensive. I am now embarked on a search.
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1349 Another Passion

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

[If you read this on a feed, the embedded video may not show. Click on the post title to see it.]

FW just called. She invited me to join her at Omega Institute tonight for dinner and a concert, and to shop for a djembe (an African hand drum, usually carved wood, with a goatskin head). She's thinking of joining a drum circle. Coincidence?

I seem to be on a theme lately. Here's another passion of mine:



I love bagpipes, and the military drum tattoos. But just hearing a recording doesn't do it. I have to SEE it. I guess it's the attire, and the faces, and the movement I have to experience, too. Also, a recording doesn't make that throb in the chest that you get in person, when the sound becomes part of your body.

Part of my love for bagpipes is that I deeply appreciate skill and craftsmanship wherever I find it (oddly, I don't necessarily have the same respect for talent), and bagpipes require hard work and dedication.

Irish (uillean) pipes require in addition a dose of insanity. Here's some Irish bagpipe playing. Note the bellows under the right elbow. Unlike the Scottish bagpipe, the Irish pipe player can play the drones, too.


I've seen Joe McKenna play Irish bagpipes, at Wolf Trap, in the early 80's (the same festival where I fell in love with zydeco). Joe's had several drones with exposed reeds, lying across his lap, and one hand whipped back and forth from the chanter (I think that's what it's called) to the drones. Fascinating. Here's a picture showing Joe's instrument.

I love bodhran, too. Here's a guy who's really good


And hammered dulcimer, oh, Lordy, hammered dulcimer:

There are so many sounds and sights that will stop me in my tracks.

You know, it's good to have things outside yourself that excite you.
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1348 Penmanship Shmenmanship, Who Cares?

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Rereading the previous post, I get a feeling of suppressed annoyance. It really has nothing to do with the credit card issue, because that has nothing to do with me.

It's penmanship.

And other idiocies.

Renewals aren't too bad - I stick a preprinted label on the form when I mail them out, so it's easy to figure out who sent it back with their check. Of course, there's always the three or four who don't return the form with their checks, or who for some unknown reason tear the top part, with the label, off. Duh? Why? There's always a few.

The real frustration comes from the new members. They fill out the form with their name, address, phone number, and email address.

Don't they realize that someone has to READ that thing? Is this a "1", or a "7", or a "9"? Is that an "o", or a "u", or an "a" ? And then there are the ones whose name is just a scrawl - I can't even tell how many letters there are, let alone what individual letters are. Of the 18 new members in this batch today, I had difficulty reading 12 of them. I could take the information off the checks for a few, or a preprinted return label on the envelope, but the rest I had to guess.

That really really bugs me.

Then there's the folks who put their full name and address on the form - and leave off the zip code. They don't know their zip code? They don't write or dictate their address very often?

I don't understand.

When I worked for The Company I often ran meetings where attendance was mandatory. I passed around an attendance form, and each and every time, I warned people that if I couldn't read their names, they would NOT be credited with attendance, and they'd have to go through it again. And yet, after every meeting, I couldn't figure out fully 20% of the names, even with the department lists in hand for comparison.

Idiots.

Yeah. I'm frustrated.
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1347 To the Museum

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

To the Maritime Museum volunteer gig this afternoon. I processed new member and renewal checks. The first half-hour was opening envelopes. The second half-hour was making copies of the forms and checks to leave on the accountant's desk. The last two hours was updating the membership info in the database.

I hate Lotus.

We found an "uh-oh" with the new dues payment forms. The museum wants to start accepting credit cards, so there's a space on the form for the type of card, the number, and a signature. No space for the expiration date. Cute. That's the letters I sent out last week, so this month we'll start getting payments we can't process. Real cute.

Well, that's the coordinator's problem, not mine. I refused to have anything to do with credit cards the first time it was proposed.
"We're going to start accepting credit cards for the dues, so you'll have to process them in the gift shop."
"No."
"Huh?"
"No. I won't do credit cards."
"Huh?"
"I don't want to do credit cards. If you want credit cards done, someone else'll have to do them. I've got more than enough to do now. I won't take on more."
"Oh."

Man, as a volunteer, you can pretty much dictate your terms. Lots better than being an employee!

The credit card machine is downstairs in the gift shop, and it's temperamental. Last week some woman bought like $45 worth of stuff in the shop, and the machine overcharged her card by fifty-some dollars. The volunteer on the register followed the printed instructions to cancel the transaction, then tried to refund the card, and nothing worked. She offered the woman a cash refund from the register, and the woman, tapping her foot impatiently, refused it. Small panic, phone calls made.

Hain't no way I'm touching that fool machine. Sounds like something a paid employee should do anyway.

No plans for tomorrow.

I guess I have to admit I did waste time yesterday. Absolutely no other person has been in this house in the past year. The place is a mess. When Roman picked me up to go Mass MOCA a few weeks ago, I was waiting outside for him. He asked if he could use my bathroom, and I said "No. We'll go to the diner." He was shocked, but nope, no one's seeing the inside of this house until I can clean up. I used to say it's cluttered, but at least it's clean clutter. Now the clutter is so bad, I can't clean.

Roman's house is a mess, too, stacks of paper on every surface and the floor, but that's different and ok. He lets me in his house (but nobody else, only me). He doesn't understand the difference. I said, "Well, when a man sees a woman's house all messy, he thinks, 'Yuck. She's a rotten housekeeper.' When a woman sees a man's house all messy, she thinks, 'Aw, so male. He needs a woman.' And that's a BIG difference."

So, tomorrow I move storage containers to the basement, and see if I can't get some order in one or two corners, at least.
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1346 More D&B Corps

Monday, July 2, 2007

When you view the videos in the prior post, at the end of each you are offered more related choices. I've spent (absolutely NOT "wasted") most of today watching all I could find. Yeah, this is a passion, one that's been neglected for far too long.

The Cavaliers are my favorites, because they are so precise on the field patterns, and they don't try to put on a Broadway show, like so many others. Here's an example of the patterns:


And another, shorter but maybe better:


I keep calling them kids. My drum line buddies of '97 said that they age out the day they turn 21 (I think I remember 21), but in practical fact, they usually drop out when they go to college, because they just don't have the time for the hours and hours of winter practice, and to spend all summer living on a bus going from competition to competition. They look so grown up in these videos. The following is a video of a BBQ hosted by alumni of the Cavaliers. Watch the current members as they come through the food line. These are KIDS! Teenagers.


Hmmmm. Drums have an effect on me. Now I need me a man....
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1345 Drum Lines

Monday, July 2, 2007

[If you're looking at a feed and don't see imbedded videos, click on the post title.]

I was watching a Metcafe video linked by another blogger, and when it finished, this was offered: http://www.metacafe.com/watch/699860/awesome_drummers/. Thrilling! (I haven't been able to figure out how to imbed it, sorry. )

It reminded me that I haven't been to a Drum & Bugle Corps competition in ages. There's one at the stadium in Kingston every summer, and the past few years, well, since Jay got sick, I've missed it. I just wasn't paying attention.

I love drum and bugle corps, especially the drum line. I love to hear them, and to watch them. Its a passion of mine. And here's why:

That was the Blue Devils, of Concord, CA, one of the top corps, in rehearsal. The sound! The precision! The Rockettes have nothing on these kids.

The next is the Cavaliers, from Illinois, warming up before competition.

Doesn't that thrill you to your very toes? My heart beats faster watching them. When the competitions are in Kingston, you find this sort of thing happening in parks, parking lots, and on lawns all over The Stockade all afternoon of "the day".

An evening I will remember as one of the best of my life was at a D&B competition. It was just before Jay got ill. He had something to do that evening, so I went alone. I was in the lower seating in the stadium, and a man came with two very young children, which he seated next to me, in about the only two seats left. He strongly cautioned them that they were to stay there, not to move, "I'll be just up there", and seemed concerned about leaving them alone. So as he as leaving to go to his own seat, I offered to trade seats with him. He gratefully accepted, and ... I found myself sitting in the middle of the alumni of the (long defunct) Kingston D&B corps!

At first they seemed a bit disconcerted to find a tiny white lady in their midst, but when I started asking questions, they were happy to have a receptive pupil. I learned sooooo much about what looks hard but is actually easy, what looks easy but is very difficult and why, what gathers points. All the technical stuff to appreciate, "Now, watch this! No, not the snares, watch the left! Woooo! Did you see that!" The guys on either side of me lifted me up high when the crowd stood, so I could see. I had an absolutely wonderful time.

They talked about how much the corps had done for them. That if it hadn't been for the discipline and pride they got from the corps, they wouldn't be where they were today. Every one of them had some kind of college degree, several owned their own successful businesses, a few were programmers with The Company. That if it hadn't been for the corps, they'd probably still be on the streets kicking stones, and that with all the problems Kingston had with midtown youth, the city was missing a bet by not resurrecting the corps.

I pointed out that they, themselves, were in a position to make a difference. The mayor was interested in things that would improve the city. Maybe they could get the Chamber of Commerce interested. All they really needed was a director and funding. By the end of the evening, they were taking about sources of funding.

I'm almost ashamed to say that I don't know if Kingston now has a corps. But I do know that shortly after that evening, Highland started a corps, and Port Ewen started a senior corps (you "age out" of the regular corps fairly early. Despite what it looks like on these videos, these are KIDS!), and I wonder if "my" drum line buddies were involved.

The following is a video from that very night! I found it entirely by chance. This is the Brigadiers, of Syracuse, NY, 1997.


The next competition in Kingston will be August 11th, 7:30 pm, at Deitz stadium. I'll be there. The lineup so far doesn't look exciting - where are the Phantom Regiment? The Cadets of Bergen County? The Bluecoats? The Cavaliers? The Brigadiers? All the national winners?

Regardless, I'll be there.
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1344 Moon Over River

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Dirty Dave just sent this, taken by his cell phone. Moon over Hudson River. Roman also tried to capture it with his cell phone, which drew one of my "Mensan comments", "How can that work? Cell phones don't have a flash." Which got some laughter, but isn't what I meant. I meant "don't they need more light?"

1343 Complications

Sunday, July 1, 2007

The decision as to whether to go to the fireworks has been made for me. There's a gusty breeze high in the trees, and the maple trees are showing the undersides of their leaves. Sure sign of rain.


If I'm wrong, I can still see the higher chrysanthemums from my deck, so I think I'll stay home, warm, and dry.

There were actually about 12 people at NJ's last night. I forgot to count the Pilot and the Nurse. It's interesting that among so few people, there was so much going on underneath. We've all known each other entirely too long.


It was last year at this time, at NJ's, that the proverbial poop hit the fan, as regards Roman and me. I'm sure a lot of people were wondering what is now going on with us. It was obvious we are friendly, even affectionate, which I'm sure blows people's minds, given what had happened. I'm a little surprised he showed up last night. Pond scum and all.

He made a point of several times mentioning "the woman I had been dating", ensuring that everyone knew they had broken up. We left together, and if anyone had been watching from the window, they'd have seen a hug and a very small kiss. They'd have seen both cars go through the stone gateway one after the other. What they couldn't see is that at the end of the access road, I turned north, and he turned south. What they don't know is that's the way it is now. That's pretty much the way it has to be. Hello hugs and goodbye kisses, and nothing much in between.

Dirty Dave broke up with his several-year girlfriend more than a year ago, and he's not over her yet. He finally figured out that she didn't really like him at all, that she was using him. He said she has lived the grasshopper life, and has found herself in her late 50s with no savings, and all she wanted was someone who would pay for her fun.

The poor guy wants a woman.

I opened the can of worms when I asked him if he'd done any travelling lately (that was his retirement plans), and he said no, that he hates travelling alone. He had tried to get back together with a prior girlfriend, and it actually looked promising, but he said that the 15-year age difference, that hadn't mattered at all when he was still working and dating her, is now suddenly a problem, because he has all this free time, and she has none. She has a lousy two weeks of vacation, and the occasional day off, and they just can't travel like he wants to. It's frustrating.

(He doesn't know what my involvement is these days, but as he went on about it, I felt like he was talking directly to me. Yeah, I understand more than he knows.)

I reminded him that he'd always said that he prefers women his own age. Maybe he needs a woman who is willing and able to pay her own way. Maybe all he needs is a platonic travel companion (implying, of course, me). I swear I said that innocently. (I want to travel. I need a travel companion, too.)

Twenty-some years ago, DD and I'd had a very brief fling, pushed together by NJ and May, who had thought we were ideal for each other. The only other person in the room who knows I had slept with DD is Roman, and it bothers him a lot. I have absolutely no sexual interest in DD. None. I have no desire whatsoever to repeat the experience. When I saw the look on Roman's face, and the look on DD's face, I wanted to say that, make it clear, or withdraw my suggestion. Bleck. Foot in mouth again.

There was a woman there who is at least ten years older than I. Back in March, a new member came to NJ's Green Eggs and Ham, and I noticed that this woman seemed fascinated by him. The expression on her face when she looked at him, the way she engaged him in intense conversation, the way she leaned into him. Last night, it was obvious she was still fascinated by him. When he left, he hugged her tightly and asked her when he'd see her again. And later, she said something about how the night before, she'd forgotten that she had xx in the refrigerator, so he and she'd "had no dessert after dinner." She'd cooked him dinner the night before? Wow. Why wow? He's got to be 40 years younger than she.

Wow. I'd love to know what's going on there.

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Post script - The next October, Roman decided to go to Israel to visit his Daughter, and invited me to go with him, as a "platonic travel companion".  I turned him down (I wanted to go, but The Man wasn't too happy about the idea, and pointed out that he being a man himself, he knew durn well what Roman was thinking.)  Wow.  I wonder if Roman got the idea from the conversation with DD.
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1342 Crocs2

Sunday, July 1, 2007

[Edit - fixed the date, per Roberta's comment. Nice catch, R.]

Thursday, when I met Daughter at the mall, she was wearing crocs. She said they were wonderful, and yes, I should get some. She slipped her foot out and I slipped mine in, and...

"Yuk! They have bumples in the bottom! I can't walk on bumples!"

I didn't know they have bumples.

My feet aren't princess feet, beautiful as they are. I like walking barefoot, and I can even walk on gravel barefoot, but at least on gravel, the bumps hit different parts of your feet. Bumples in your shoes hit the same spots over and over, and I can't stand that. The bumples take over my mind, and it's all I can feel.

Ok. I'm over my crocs lust.
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1341 Drums

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Doing the CD list has me listening to a lot of music I haven't heard in ages. I was listening to Natacha Atlas ("Diaspora") this evening, and suddenly I could clearly hear and identify two of the rhythms I had always before confused.

I have a little ceramic Indian bayan in the den that I used to play for practice when I was waiting for long downloads on the desktop. Since I got the laptop, it's been neglected. I started playing it along with the Diaspora CD, and I could keep up! I was doing pretty well! I wasn't getting off beat, and when they switched rhythms, I did too! Something must have clicked in my brain.

I got so excited I went to the back bedroom and got one of the big doumbeks, which I hadn't touched in months.

It's a little harder to keep up on the doumbek (it rebounds more slowly or something so I have to hit it sharper or it slows my hand down too much), but by George, I think I've finally, after two years of frustration, I've finally got it!

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An annoying post script - The doumbeks, with their man-made heads, are in zippered cases. The African djembe, which has a goatskin head with the hair on, was not in a case. The flippin' moths ate all the hair off my djembe. I'm pissed! My djembe is bald!!!
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1340 Moonlight

Sunday, July 1, 2007 (Late night, early morning, whatever....)

Moonlight at NJ's was nice. Naturally, I forgot a real camera, but I took two photos with the toy camera on my keyring. The first is the view from NJ's back porch. The small figure on the lawn on the left is FirstWoman, to give some idea of the scale. That hill is actually very steep. There's a bit of beach visible beyond FW.


This next one was taken from where FW is standing in the first photo. She wanted to smoke, so she had spread her blanket there. I joined her and we talked for a while, but I wanted to get back up to the group, so we moved her blanket up to near the porch, where Roman joined us a little later.


We didn't last long out there. Something was biting FW and Roman (as usual, I was being ignored by the bugs) and they couldn't take it any longer - especially Roman, who was wearing short sleeves and shorts (red short shorts - he took some ribbing for that), so we moved inside.

It was a small group tonight, maybe about 10 of us. People wondered why - I see no mystery. I figure a lot of people started their holiday at the end of work on Friday.

The moon finally came up about 9:30ish, I'm not sure, but it was full dark by then and the bugs weren't so active, so we all went outside again. Dirty Dave had brought a telescope, and we looked at the moon and at Jupiter. Jupiter's four moons were all lined up together. Kinda neat.

The moonlight shone over the water, and it was pretty, and then fireworks started somewhere across the river. Hyde Park is straight across, and the fireworks were south a bit, so we figure they had to be at the Culinary Institute. We got a good show.

Poor Roman had put a jacket on, but his legs were still getting all bit up, so we left everyone else still out on the porch and moved to the kitchen, where we were eventually joined by Dirty Dave. People started leaving, and the last hour was Roman, Dirty Dave, The Hippy, NJ, and me in the kitchen. Topics of conversation ranged from Roman's daughter's luggage having been lost on the way to Israel (she went through Heathrow yesterday, shortly after the terrorist threat there), to DD's single status, to Zig's mysterious friend in Boston, to online dating, to property easements.

They have convinced me that I have to get back the easement that I gave the guy who's building below me (for $1 and clearing the woods in my side yard), since it turns out he can't use it, but if he ever sells the land, the easement will go with it, and who knows what a new owner would do.

The Hippy and I talked about joining up at the Jazz Festival. We could, but he said he wasn't too enthusiastic about the groups they had scheduled, so he might not stay long. If he's not enthusiastic, I'm sure I won't be - that's something he knows something about. So I'm losing my enthusiasm, what little I had. And the fireworks we saw tonight might be enough for me. I don't know.

I got home a little after midnight, and on the way home I was thinking about the bug biting thing. It seems like every guy I have found attractive in "that way", has also been loved by bugs. Obie, Jay, Roman, The Man - they all attracted bugs as much as they attracted me. I don't think I've ever been attracted to a bug-repellent man. I guess the bugs and I both sense the same thing. The Man says it's testosterone. I can believe it.

That would be a cute line in an online dating profile: "Must attract bugs."
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1339 Weekend Plans

Saturday, June 30, 2007

FW just called to ask if I'd be going to NJKC's Moonlight party tonight. Yeah. Except for when Jay was sickest, and when I was incommunicado for a few years after he died, I've gone to every one for the past 21 years. (Wow! Has it really been that long?)

NJKC picks a summer weekend with a full moon, and we're supposed to sit on blankets on the mansion's lawn sloping down to the river, drink champagne, and watch the moon rise over the Hudson. It's beautiful, except that mostly no one actually goes outside. Usually everyone is inside, somebody looks out a window and says "Moon's coming up." Half the group glances out a window and says"Nice", and that's it.

Buncha deadheads.

Well, NJKC and May and a few others smoke inside, and I'm trying really hard to quit, so by darn this year I AM going to be out on a blanket! Roman and FW plan to attend for the first time in forever, so they will be outside, too, and Angie and Andi, if they're there, so I won't be alone this time. FW plans to bring "other stuff to smoke", and I can't be too near that, and I suspect it might feak out some others, so it may take some diplomacy. Or an upwind seat.

I'd like to go to the jazz festival and fireworks tomorrow. If I can find someone this evening who will go with me, maybe I will. Maybe I won't. The fireworks off the bridge are spectacular, but I noticed that they have a huge flag hanging from the bridge this year. I can't imagine they'd risk setting fire to it, so maybe the bridge won't be used this year. Ho hum. Having trouble caring, actually.
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1338 CD Music Collection

Saturday, June 30, 2007

The CD database is almost complete, but there seems to be a lot missing. There are only 272 entries. Last year when I went shopping for the CD cabinet, I counted, and got well over 300. There's some more in the vehicles that I haven't listed yet, but certainly not 80 of them!

For example, there's only one Anonymous 4 on the list, but I know I have several more Anon-4 CDs. My CD player holds five, and last December I loaded it with all Anon-4. So where are they now?

I don't understand.

As I suspected, there's a lot of dross in there, too. Some purchasing mistakes that I could get rid of and never miss. Like the Tuve throat singers of central Asia. Nice to have it to be able to listen carefully and analyze, but having done so, I never want to hear it again.
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1337 Table v. Database

Friday, June 29, 2007

Well, I screwed up.

The Man asked me a few weeks ago what my music collection consisted of, and I couldn't answer. It's pretty eclectic. There's no easy way to describe it as a whole. I'm likely to mention just whatever I listened to last.

Until the other night my closet shelves were so crowded I no longer knew what was there, and wore the same tops over and over. I'm doing the same thing with my CDs. There's so much there, many of which are trash, that I can't find the good stuff, or have forgotten what's there, so I listen to the same stuff over and over.

I decided to go through the collection, find out what I have, impose some order, make a list, maybe even find out if I have duplicates.

I've been having fun, pulling CDs out of the cabinet, popping some I haven't heard in ages into the CD drive, entering their data into an MS Word table.

Yup, a table. I screwed up.

On the desktop PC, I have lots of lists of things in database whatsises. I can sort those lists by column. Like by artist, album title, or genre (which is the way they should be organized anyway).

Guess what - a table is not a data base. You can't sort by artist or album title. You can't sort, period. My pretty list is just as useless as the jumble in the cabinet. It MATCHES the jumble in the cabinet. Latest interest on top. Sigh.

I have entered 152 CDs, of the close to 400 I have.

Sigh. Start over.
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1337 Museum and Berries

Friday, June 29, 2007

Went to the Maritime Museum today to send out the July membership reminders, 44 of them. The Board has approved all our suggested changes, so today's letters didn't promise any gifts or premiums. Once I send out the June membership cards and premiums next week, it will get a lot easier. Every envelope will contain exactly the same thing, finally.

This weekend is the Jazz Festival on the Rondout, with fireworks off the bridge Sunday evening. There are several small and a few large yachts docked at the museum already. The city is running shuttles from the uptown malls again, so parking's not a problem, but combining the jazz with the fireworks means that Sunday evening, when I'd want to go, the place will be packed. I have to think about it.

My black mulberry tree is fruiting. Yummy. The berries are best right off the tree and into the mouth, and only in the morning. I've got another young groundhog this year climbing the tree after the berries. He goes up easily, but to get down he has to go way out to the end of a branch until it bends close to the ground, so he can drop off.

There's a wild black raspberry plant taking over the hosta bed along the front and side of the garage. Every year I risk "the death of a thousand cuts" to cut it back, and every year it returns. The berries are especially juicy this year, I eat a handful or two every time I go out to the car, and I'm thinking maybe the better plan would be to cut back the hostas and let the raspberries have that bed. The hostas bore me. Of the ten or more plants, only one is variegated, the rest are a plain flat green, and hostas have butt-ugly flowers.

I may be shooting myself in the foot. One unrestrained raspberry plant would happily take over my entire yard in three years. AND, raspberries attract bears.

Anybody know a way to corral raspberries short of surrounding them with a six-foot apron of concrete?
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1336 Hafez, the CD

Friday, June 29, 2007

[Later edit - fixed the quote.]

The CD Roman gave me yesterday is "Hafiz: The Scent of Light" (he found it in a bin in a blank case, without cover or liner notes). He thought it was mid-eastern music. Bellydance.

It's not. Hafiz, or Hafez, was a fourteenth-century Sufi Persian poet. The CD is an "audio book" of translated readings from his romantic and spiritual poems, with Indian (sitar), Persian, and Arabic musical accompaniment. It's absolutely beautiful. I highly recommend it.

Hafez was the one who likened true love to "taking an iron hold on the painful swollen balls of a Divine rogue elephant, and not having the good fortune to die."

Ok, some verses aren't so beautiful.
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1335 Gift Day

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Good day today.

On my way to the mall to meet Daughter, I decided to drop off the sell-off report with Piper. His "open" flag was out, but the office door was locked. I walked to the cafe, but they were closing, so I tried the tavern across the street, and found him there. Drinking soda. Really, soda. He's losing weight, and trying very hard to stick to the diet.

He's very social. When I hang with him in the tavern, I meet all kinds of people. He knows everyone. The tavern seems to be the place for the village men to hang out during the day - it's like it should have a potbelly stove or something. I sat at the bar with him and some other guys for about 40 minutes, and had some iced tea.

Anyway, he was happy to see the numbers. He'll pass them on to The Angel.

Then I headed on down to the mall. Daughter wasn't too very late, and as she was walking into Macy's, where we were to meet, her phone rang, and it was my sister. So I got to talk to Sister while Daughter went to the ladies' room.

Daughter and I had a nice visit, with a little shopping, before she left to meet her Fishkill friends for dinner. When we parted, she gave me a bag of bath salts, skin cream, and some other stuff, in lieu of a kitten.

I was headed back up route 9, when it occurred to me that it was almost 7, and I hadn't had anything but my yogurt all day. I called Roman and said, "Hi! I happen to be in Poughkeepsie, and I'm going to be looking for someplace to eat. You interested? Have you eaten yet?" So I picked him up, and we went to a rustic little steakhouse tavern for dinner.

He gave me a CD he'd found at a used book sale, one he thought I'd be interested in. I listened to it on the way home, and it turns out it is not the mid-eastern music he thought it was from the title, it's something a lot more interesting. (I want to do some research before I say anything more about it.)

I got home about 9 pm, to find a very nice phone message on my machine from The Gypsy. Not only did she know I needed a message, to get that lonely "1" off the blink, the message was to invite me to a party in a few weeks, and to watch her perform in a Kingston restaurant next week. Feels nice in my tummy.

I feel like I got all kinds of appreciation and gifts today.

At around 10 I decided to go into the village to the all-night grocery store to buy a few things.

Now, from about 10:00 on, there is almost no traffic in the village. You often won't see another car in either direction. I frequently go at night to the gas station mini-mart or the post office, or the grocery store, because it's easy to find a place to park, and there's no jam-up at the light, people trying to make left turns. I can even pull a "U" in the middle of the deserted village street to return home - don't have to go around the block. (Which is a pain, because we have so few real "blocks".)

So I was surprised to see several cars pulled over in front of the post office and across the street, and people moving around in the street. As I got closer, I realized there was glass all over the street, and the people were trying to kick the larger pieces to the curb.

Accident? No. No mashed fenders....

It was beer bottles! There was an SUV with the hatch open, and the back was full of cases of beer. It looked like the hatch had popped open, and a case or two fell out. From the looks of some of the bottles, I'd say the cars parked to the side had driven over more than a few.

Given my recent tire woes, there was NO WAY I was going to try to navigate through that mine field.

I turned around in the post office driveway, and went around one of the more awkward blocks.

When I returned from the grocery store, the police had arrived and had blocked the street. The SUV was (mysteriously) gone, but the other cars were still there.

I wonder if they all have flat tires.


If I have a flat tomorrow, at least I will, for once, know where it came from. And actually, that's a GOOD feeling.
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1334 Thursday plans

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Daughter will be visiting friends about an hour south of here this evening, so we are going to meet about 4 pm at a mall near there. Do a little window shopping. When she suggested it on Tuesday, I had sort of assumed we'd meet at like 1 pm. Oh well. I'll take what I can get. Two hours is about our limit in concentrated time, anyway, before we start sniping.

Talked with Piper this morning. He's pleased, thinks I made the right choices of stuff to sell.

You know what's one of the saddest things? When I'm out all day or all evening, and when I get home the answering machine says "0", day after day. I've developed a habit of not erasing the latest message until I get another. That way, when I walk in the door, it says "1". The "1" on the machine now happens to be a message from June 15th. It's no longer comforting.

I'll be out today. Somebody please leave me a message.
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1333 Reducing the Stock(s)

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Piper will be pleased. Today I sold all the Eastman Kodak (capital loss!), Met Life, Verizon, Comcast, Progress Energy, AT&T, half of the Chevron, and some of the remaining Exxon/Mobile.

Piper wanted me to sell all of the British Petroleum, but for some reason, when I came to that one on the list, my dialing finger balked. No idea why, but when I get feelings like that, I listen. I also don't want to sell Marathon yet. It split 2 for 1 on 6/18/07, and right after a split is not a good time to sell (or buy, for that matter). Piper will just have to accept that.

All that remains now of that particular portfolio is a few companies in certificate form, a few companies in transition, one that I couldn't find the transfer agent for, and what's left of the oil companies. They'll all go next year.

Piper will put the proceeds into mutual funds and tax-free bonds.

------------------------------------------

I spent most of the afternoon trying on clothes. I filled a large storage container with tops that are too large for me now, but are still nice (donate or sell), and threw out an equal amount that I'd be ashamed to admit I once wore. The closet shelves are looking a little bare now, but there was so much dross that I hadn't been able to find anything and had been wearing the same few things over and over. So that's ok. Even though there's less stuff, it's more available.

Slacks, jackets, blouses, and dresses on the racks are next. I know there's going to be a lot that is too big, or that I won't ever wear again. It takes me a while to admit that something is just plain unflattering (well, I admit it enough that don't wear it, but not enough to get rid of it), but I'm going to be tough. Out, out, ugly stuff!
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1332 Another "Huh?"

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

From TechDirt, "The Insight Company for the Information Age", at http://techdirt.com/articles/20060426/1012207.shtml.

I copied the whole thing here, because I know many people never click on links. So there. No excuses.

Stick To Downloading Child Porn, Not Movies, If You Want Short Jail Sentencesfrom the misplaced-priorities-much? dept.

We mentioned recently that politicians are looking to expand the DMCA, hoping to crack down on the possession of any tool that would help to circumvent DRM. As if this weren't draconian enough, some have noticed sentencing guidelines contained in the law that seem really out of synch with other federal statutes. The bill's new revisions would allow for 10-year sentences for music and software piracy. This is longer than the five years one can get for assaulting a police officer, and the seven years for downloading child pornography. This seems like misplaced priorities, and poor use of the government's criminal justice resources. This is particularly strange, in light of the fact that The Justice Department is stepping up their fight against child porn. This includes new measures that would create more liability for ISPs, among others (nevermind that such liability is misplaced, since the ISPs aren't actually the ones engaging in criminal behavior). Still, any law that would make piracy a more severe crime than child porn is an indication that the government has completely lost its priorities, and is totally at the whim of its industry donors..

1331 Update on the kitten

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

The kitten went to the vet yesterday for his first checkup.

He's definitely a "he", so the name Daughter has been using, "Titus", fits.
He's at least 8 weeks old.
He weighs 2 lb 2 oz.
FIV and Leukemia tests are negative.
His ears are clean, no mites.
He was frightened, but was a perfect gentleman.

Daughter reports he has calmed down, purrs and plays now, accepts her as his new Mommy.
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1330 Random Brain Clutter

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Having been in 12 schools between kindergarten and high school graduation, I've known many teachers. Some of them were certifiable whackos, and shouldn't have been allowed to influence children, especially since lessons you learn very early in life tend to stick with you forever, even after you know better.

About a week ago I trimmed three inches off my hair, so the shorter hair from the crown (accident with a straightening iron this past winter) could catch up. I miss the length. I was brushing it this morning, and wondering if I could somehow make it grow faster than the usual inch per month, scalp massage or something, and a weird picture popped into my head, with the caption "Do This! It works!"

When I was in middle school in Ottawa, Ontario, I had a teacher who told us odd stories. She'd interrupt a lesson to tell us stories that had nothing to do with anything. This is the same teacher who made us bring a spoon from home, and we'd line up every morning for a dose of cod liver oil. Every once in a while, in the spring and fall, we'd get castor oil.

She also told us that we could change the color of our eyeglasses frames by painting them with nail polish, and then when we got tired of that color, we could just peel it right off. My parents were furious when I ruined a pair that way.

Anyway, one day, in the middle of math class, she asked if we'd noticed that Swedish women all had very long braids. "Um, no?", we hadn't noticed.
"Well, they do. And do you know how they get them to grow so long?"
"Um, no?"
"When the women visit each other, they tie their braids together, and loop them over high hooks on the wall, and then hang there by their braids and knit and talk. That makes their hair grow faster."

So this morning, wondering if I could make my hair grow faster, I pictured myself hanging from a hook, and caught myself thinking I'd have to make the braids high on my head.

Brain clutter.
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1329 Pleasing Piper

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

This evening I decided I can't procrastinate any longer. I've got to do the dreaded research for the odd lots. I gathered all the communications, account reports, and dividend check stubs for so far this year. Then I opened the "To Sell" folder - and right on top was a list of all stock to be sold, along with the phone numbers, account numbers, and notes as to whether they were certificate or book-entry.

Wow! I must have done all the research sometime last year, maybe when I sold the first batches, and forgot I'd done it.

So all I had to do was check the numbers against current stubs, and locate the few certificates (neatly filed in the cabinet, yay me!) Ready to make the calls tomorrow.

I'm getting a little worried about stuff like that - not remembering that it was already done. I seem to lose bits and pieces, like what I did last Wednesday evening, for example, or Friday. The calendar is blank for those days, so so is my mind. Or when was the last time I'd talked to so-and-so. Sometimes things seem farther away in time than they are.

Other things seem condensed. Something that happened a week ago feels like it happened yesterday.

I'm having trouble with time. It gets mixed up, and passes without my noticing sometimes. Sometimes I get wrapped up in other things, like conversations, and don't notice time passing. Maybe it's that I don't have any kind of regular schedule. I go to bed when I finish whatever has captured my interest, sometimes at 1 am, sometimes at 6 am. I get up when I finish sleeping, sometimes at 8 am, sometimes at 1 pm. Then having nothing regular during the day exacerbates the problem. Some days I never even get dressed.

No wonder time has no meaning....
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1328 Deported?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Today I wanted to download something, and the web site told me I couldn't have it, because they can download only to the United States. Huh? There was nowhere on the site for me to tell them where I am. I assume they get it from maybe the ISP location or something, like SiteMeter does? But that should say USA. I don't understand.

So a little later I went to another site, and the next page after the home page popped up in some Germanic-looking language. Well, that narrows it down a little, wither I have been deported, I mean. Again, they didn't ask where I am. They assumed.

My new broadband hookup seems to get whatever connection it can. When I tell SiteMeter to log my own visits to my blog, it has shown me variously in Fresno, Chicago, Annapolis, Boston, all over the country, ... but not out of the country.

I wonder where I am today, exactly?
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1327 Tire

Tuesday, June 26, 2006

I pumped up the Aerio's tire, and over a period of a week sitting in the driveway it deflated again. So I pumped it up today (a small compressor that plugs into the lighter, very handy!) and drove to the tire place in Rhinebeck.

A nail. Again. This is something like the third or fourth puncture I've had in the past five months, and I don't drive "dangerous" places, like farmyards or something. Just highways and residential streets. OLD residential streets - no heavy construction. I don't understand.

The minivan also has a slow leak - slower than the Aerio. Also in a front tire. I pumped it up Monday of last week, and I've driven it at least 200 miles since then, and it's now down 10 psi from 35.

I've got eight brand new tires, and if this keeps up, by the end of the year all eight will have plug patches.

Something's wrong.
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1326 A Moment Caught

Monday, June 25, 2007

[Later edit - changed "never met" to "don't really know" the couple, because I met them at my friend's wedding, many years ago.]

I'm posting this photo without permission, because it's so beautiful.

This is the parents of an old friend. In the early eighties, the friend was a college co-op at The Company. It was our task to teach him how to be a good "Beamer". His father is now in a nursing home, well into dementia. He had what they think may have been a stroke this past week.

My friend took this photo on one of his mother's visits to his father last fall (I believe), and even though I don't really know the couple, my heart melts every time I look at it.

Please send positive vibes their way.


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1325 Into the Fray Once More?

Monday, June 25, 2007

Ever notice how a lot of the folks who show up at the Idol or Inventor tryouts are social misfits? I wonder what that means - both that they show up with such frequency, and that we enjoy watching them so much.

Actually, that explains it.

------------------------------

Somebody mentioned the personality test on eharmony, one of the few dating sites I hadn't tried back when I was doing that. I'm a sucker for those tests, so I checked it out. Unfortunately, you have to register to take the test, and I was feeling flush (and a bit neglected by The Man - he warned me that had been a problem in his past relationships, you'd think he'd learn something from that), so I did.

The test results were neither extraordinary nor illuminating, so I wandered away. Only to find my alternate email id, the next morning, chock full of "matches". Sixteen of them. And growing. Ack! What do I do now?

Four of them rejected me right off, most for distance, but the guy who checked the "no chemistry" and "differing values" choices kinda hurt my feelings. (Chemistry? Sheesh. Must be my photo, huh?)

One of them "initiated communication" right away. Hmmmm. I really don't want to get involved in this right now. On the other hand, the eharmony process (controlled communication) is new and different, and I am curious. He chose and sent six multiple-choice questions from a list provided by eharmony, for me to answer. Then I get to choose questions for him.

Maybe this isn't fair of me, since I'm not really looking, but ... curiosity rules. I answered the questions, and sent him a set.

I'm not going to "initiate communications" with anyone, but I think I'll follow this one through. Just to see how it goes. (Although there is that one guy in Beltsville, MD, who sounds interesting....)

Am I bad?
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1324 Library, Scanner

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Yesterday I volunteered at the Kingston Library. They were starting up the summer reading program, with a story-telling magician, crafts, a speech by the mayor, and ice cream. Little kids. Looked like 9 or 10 and under, maybe. One of my adoptive pen-pal boys, from the picnic a few weeks ago, had brought his little sister, and I think he might have a crush on me. He and I did some intricate paper-folding.

I usually don't do too well in a room full of small children, too much random activity going on around me scatters my brain, but the pen-pal picnics and this program weren't too bad. They kept the kids organized and directed, so I was able to appreciate them.

I almost didn't find the library. I had the address, but as usual, few of the buildings on the street had visible numbers. It was a very residential street. I finally just parked well beyond the number I was looking for, and walked back up the street. Turns out it was a building I had rejected as obviously abandoned. It's a huge very old brick building, surrounded by blacktop and a high, badly rusted, bent and leaning chain link fence covered in weedy ivy. I believe it was once the Sojourner Truth School. Gates in the fence were all chained closed. Took me a while to find the one open gate, the one to the parking lot.

Inside the fence, the building is in good condition, and inside the building, it's nice. I'm glad. I hate to see old buildings torn down just because they're old. I do wish the city would do something about that fence, though. I guess they think they need it - I drove past the building today, and the gates to the parking lot were chained. High graffiti neighborhood, maybe?

-----------------------------------

I bought a new flatbed scanner today. The old one is about 15 years old, I swear, and takes forever to do even a B&W prescan. I used to go make a cup of tea when I was scanning something, and would actually go to the print shop in the village if I needed more than two pages copied. I was never unhappy with the quality, just the time. Also, Jay had a habit of discarding directions (probably the ONLY paper he ever threw out, I guess he considered it insulting), so I never knew what half the options meant, and was afraid to change any settings. This one is fast, and I HAVE THE BOOK!

I'm happy. Gonna scan in lots and lots of old photos.
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1323 Cat Chupping

Sunday, June 24, 2007

I have mentioned that a characteristic of Maine Coon Cats is their "chupping" when they're watching prey they can't get to, like outside a window.

This is not a Maine Coon (unless it's a very young one, or has some Coon in its background), and it's watching a moth. It's a good example of the chupping.


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1322 Ricketts - 3

Saturday, June 23, 2007

I saved this photo for its own entry, because it must clearly illustrates why I love this place, and NEED to visit once a year.

It's my cathedral.

1321 Ricketts - 2

Saturday, June 23, 2007

More falls photos. It's difficult to select, because Daughter and Hercules don't want their likenesses here (although it's ok on their own sites, apparently), so I have to discard photos with recognizeable faces. Hmmm - maybe I can block out some faces. Ok, let's see what we've got:

You can see immediately where I need to lose those last 15 pounds-




Great faith in that rock....






Colors, and it isn't even autumn -

1320 Ricketts 1

Friday, June 22, 2007

[Edit - corrected spelling error.]

At Ricketts Glen last weekend:



Hercules sent a slew of photos. I'll post more later.
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1319 Procrastination

Friday, June 22, 2007

I am in major procrastination mode. I decided that I had to do two things today: Gather up the clematis, and get the information together to sell the odd lots.

I have very carefully done neither.

The clematis is supposed to climb some chicken wire wrapped around the downspout next to the front porch. Every few years I cut it back to a few inches from the ground. It got cut back last fall, and with the mild winter and steady rain we've had, it has already grown a good 10 feet. Problem is, it isn't growing up the downspout. It has spread across the flower bed, over the azaleas, and halfway up the rhododendron.

Gathering it and tying it up isn't the hard part. The hard part is spiders and snakes. That area is full of spiders, and therefore is full of garter snakes who eat the spiders (I assume they eat the spiders - I HOPE they eat the spiders). Every time I've fussed in that area, I've flushed snakes. I'm not afraid of snakes, especially not garter snakes (although they DO get pretty big around here) - it's the spiders that really worry me. Big wolf spiders. It really won't be that bad. It's just so easy to find something else to do. Like visit YouTube. Much preferred over spiders and snakes.

Selling the odd lots will be easy. All I have to do is call the stockholder relations phone number on Monday, give them my SS#, account number, and count of shares to sell. Simple. I love that "all I have to do"!

I have to first find out what the stockholder relations phone number is for each of them. Some are available online, but only if you navigate some very dense web sites to find it. Some numbers are not available online. Some of them will have a number on a dividend check stub, but many of them are minor split-off stocks that don't pay dividends. None of them handle their own trades anyway.

Then find the account numbers. The ones that pay dividends will be easy. The ones that don't will be harder. I have to rely on my having filed the proper past communications in a timely fashion, and I've never been very good at that. The papers I need will be around here ... somewhere ... probably in a "to be filed" stack ... somewhere. Ack.

If I have the account numbers, I may not have to have the actual count of shares. The stupid things have a habit of splitting and spinning off. I'm never quite sure what the heck I've got. One more reason to get rid of odd lots of small stocks, anyway. They're never worth much, don't pay beans, and have a habit of reverse splitting, getting taken over, sold off, or changing names. I suppose if you have 3,000 shares of some small mid-western telephone company, it might be worth keeping track of it, but 5 shares acquired in a spinoff? Bleck.

I suppose once I get started it will be easier. Keep thinking - one step is one step forward, and you don't have to do it again. Getting started is the hardest part.

There's just so darn many of them!
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1318 Rich Uncles, Watch out!

Friday, June 22, 2007

The government takes a large chunk of a large estate in estate taxes, the so-called "death tax". Over the next few years, the federal estate tax code will allow an increasing amount of the estate to be exempt.

I did a little research on this a while ago, but it wasn't particularly important to me, so I didn't write down and don't remember the precise amounts or years, and don't feel like looking it up now, but at some point, the exemption reaches a maximum, and the next year it reverts to the original rates.

Um, what's gonna happen in December of the last year of the maximum exemption? How many plugs will get pulled on December 31?

Just wondering....
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1317 Source of All

1316 Dangerous Drivers

Friday, June 22, 2007

I've had several dangerous, frightening, or annoying experiences on the road lately.

Driving home from the village last Monday, a paramedic "fly car" came up behind me, covered in flashing lights, siren blaring. I don't know how it works in other areas, but around here, when someone isn't breathing, the fly car is sent out ahead of the ambulance, because every second counts. When Jay had his first seizure and we didn't know what it was yet, when I managed to force my way through the bathroom door to get to him, he was not breathing. The fly car made it here from Rhinebeck, normally an 18-minute drive in traffic, in seven minutes.

So when I saw the fly car, I immediately pulled over and stopped. I knew what it meant. (I was driving the handicap van - 4" of ground clearance - pulling off the road is dangerous to my undercarriage, but I risked it.)

The car ahead of me did not pull over! The speed limit was 40 mph in a no-passing zone with curves, and he/she continued potting along at 40. I couldn't believe it! He/she never did pull over, even when he/she passed a side road and several driveways. The fly car was unable to get past for more than a mile, until there was a clear passing spot.

I hope the medic radioed in the idiot's plate number. I was horrified.

Then, Wednesday, I had just parked on route 9, across from Piper's office, when I noticed the ambulance coming north on route 9, approaching the traffic light in the middle of the village. (The lights were flashing, but they're not allowed to use the siren in the village unless they have a patient on board and are headed to the hospital - which restriction I don't understand or agree with.)

It's an old village, narrow road, one lane north, one south. The light was red for north-south traffic, and the ambulance, lights flashing, was stopped behind several cars at the light.

I've heard that some places have some kind of radio doohicky whereby an emergency vehicle can push a button and turn traffic lights red both ways. Evidently we don't have it here . The east-west traffic continued to go through the intersection. Finally, the north-south traffic got the green.

Now, what should have happened is that the vehicles heading both north and south should have remained stopped. That would allow the ambulance to go around the cars ahead of it at the light and proceed north in an open lane.

That didn't happen. Not only did no one let the ambulance through, no one made any attempt to pull over, either! (No room to pull over in the village - which is more reason to let the ambulance through the light to an open road.) All the cars and trucks just went through the light like normal, and on up the road. Like normal.

I don't understand. What's wrong with people?

Then we get to yesterday. I was on route 9w just south of Port Ewen, heading north, at 3:25 pm, behind a long line of cars traveling at the speed limit. It was a passing zone. There was a line of oncoming south-bound cars.

The first of the oncoming cars was literally only a few yards ahead of me when I heard a whooshing sound to my left, and saw a car passing me at an extremely high rate of speed. My brain went into overdrive. There was no way she could get back into the north-bound lane in time. I was looking at a really bad head-on about to happen. She was going to hit the oncoming car, or, if she moved right, she was going to hit me. I slammed on the brakes and whipped to the right, off the road, and the woman also whipped right at the same instant, into the same spot my van would have been in had I not gone off the road. We're talking inches, here.

Let's just say I was pissed.

It was a black Nissan Sentra, NY plate number NXP2870. The driver was a youngish woman with streaked dark blond/light brown hair, sunglasses, and a mole or similar mark on the middle of her left cheek. I think it was a NY plate - the frame covered the words. Anyway, the plate was white.

I know from experience that reporting the incident to the police won't do any good because it's my word against hers, and there was no damage.

I heard somewhere that given the plate number, it's possible to locate the owner of the vehicle, with an online search. I'd like to write her a letter. Can't do it through the DMV (which actually is good - I wouldn't want weirdos getting my home address from seeing me pass on the street - I've had enough trouble with my address and phone number on checks - there are a lot of lonely shop clerks out there). There are several sites that promise, for $25, to find the owner given the plate, but I've had enough experience with that type of search site to know that the money is for a "membership", not for the information, so when they can't deliver, you can't complain.

I don't understand what made her do that. What's wrong with people?

I followed her through Port Ewen, and then passed her on the multi-lane section, where she potted along behind a large truck that had trouble getting up to speed after the lights. She didn't seem to be in such a big hurry then.
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1315 Lunch and Small TTT

Thursday, June 21, 2007

FirstWoman and I had an almost three-hour lunch today. I went out the door at 10:30 am, found a flat tire on the minivan, used the compressor to pump it up again, went to the post office to mail the estimated taxes and got behind several people applying for passports, and finally made it to the Newburgh riverfront at 12:15, only 15 minutes late. It normally takes an hour anyway, so that was pretty good.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The restaurant was crowded, so we didn't get to sit out on the patio until halfway through dinner, but eventually we did.

I got home at 4:15, and would have to leave the house again at 5:15 for the 6:30 Third Thursday Mensa dinner in Poughkeepsie. Four people had RSVP'd, so Roman and I waited in the lobby for 20 minutes, but no one else showed up. The rushing clouds, whipping wind, falling tree branches, and occasional rain drops may have had something to do with it.... Neither of us were very hungry, both having eaten not-so-much earlier, a distinct disadvantage in an all-you-can eat buffet restaurant. I ate mostly fruit, vegetables, and shrimp, and I rediscovered Jello. I like red Jello! I'd forgotten.

We talked a lot. I got home after 9:30.

Wow. The whole entire day shot on two meals with two people. Both enjoyable, though. Back to the to-do list tomorrow.

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When it's windy/stormy out, my roof antenna (I don't have cable) picks up an unknown channel at 21. Actually, I think it's a montage of several channels. Changes with the clouds, I guess. I got 45 minutes of "Wonder Years" this evening, and then it suddenly changed to "Shop at Home".

I loved "Wonder Years"! I'd forgotten about that, too. Jello and "Wonder Years". All in one day. Neat.
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1314 Slow Cluster

When you click on the cluster map (on the right on the main page) it says "This map is updated daily (most recent update: 2007-06-18 22:18:13 GMT)."

Um, daily? It's now the 21st.
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1313 Ankle Bites

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Saturday, while going down a steep section on the falls trail, I stepped wrong on a loose stone, and my left foot got tipped too far, putting some stress on the outside of the ankle. It hurt for a minute, then was ok.

It has been ok, up until this afternoon. I was walking to the kitchen, and it suddenly started hurting really badly, with every step, on the outside back of that big bone. Stop walking, and it stops hurting. No swelling, no redness, no "lumps".

I have since discovered that it doesn't hurt to walk if I'm barefoot or wearing flat-soled shoes (like flip-flops), AND it doesn't hurt if I walk way up on the balls of my feet. It hurts only if I try to walk with a slightly raised heel.

Weird. Ok, Flat sandals for a while.
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1312 Ack! Taxes!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Lunch today with Piper. Before lunch we went over my accounts. He's getting annoyed at my procrastination in selling my odd lots. He advises me not only on my investments, but on the tax ramifications. 60% of what he's controlling for me is in tax-free bonds. 100% of what I'm still holding is taxed. The longer I hold onto this stuff, the more it throws off his tax planning.

Recognizing "annoyed" in Piper requires some familiarity with him. The man's always cheerful and amusing. The only clues to annoyance is that he gets momentarily serious, or explains something more than once.

So I came home from lunch thinking about taxes, and how I may have thrown off the 2007 estimated tax calculations, and possibly 2008 as well, and then I realized with horror that it's now the 20th, and June's estimated tax payment was due LAST FRIDAY! ACK!

I've never been late before, so I don't know what the federal penalty is, but New York State misplaced a payment a few years ago (the idiots applied it to Jay's ss#, even though he'd been dead three years by then, and it was MY ss# on the form and on the check), and the penalty was pretty big. And before we'd got it straightened out, they were assessing penalties on the penalty. Ack ack!

So, another thing on the to-do-immediately list.

In the meantime, the Aerio's tire has gone flat again.
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1311 Cluster Map

I just noticed that the cluster map (on the right) is working! Click on it for a detailed view.

[Later edit - Oops. You have to be on the main page to see it. It's not there on an "entry only" page.]

1310 Daughter

I was just wandering through my photos on Flickr, and found this, one of my favorites. Daughter has said she doesn't want photos of herself on my blog, but she's unrecognizable in this, so it should be ok. I just like it as a picture.

Hiking in Colorado:

1309 Bits

Tuesday, June 19, 2007 (2:30 am)

Something I forgot to mention about the disasters of last weekend - The Man is highly allergic to citrus fruits. He can't be in a room that has been cleaned with citrus oil cleaners, for example. I was fully aware of that, but just before he arrived at the hotel, I had peeled and eaten an orange, and the peels were in the wastebasket. He took two steps into the room, and choked.

If I ever hear from him again, I'll be impressed with his level of tolerance.

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A commenter asked about my reference to my first daughter. I'd had three first-trimester miscarriages, and then a pregnancy that looked like it was going to make it. We had only a few weeks to go when a "challenged" young woman who liked to see fire engines set fire to my building. It was a slow smokey fire in the storage room beneath my apartment. I suffered some smoke inhalation, and Mary Elizabeth was stillborn the next day, January 27, 1967.

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I'm probably going to put on some weight this week. Friday was a classy restaurant dinner on a patio with a view, with The Man. Saturday was a good solid meal in a country hotel with Daughter, Hercules, and The Man. Sunday was a long slow dinner in an Irish restaurant with Roman. Today was sushi with Zig, FirstWoman, Angie, Nate, Julia, and Roman. Wednesday I'll have lunch with Piper. Thursday is lunch with FirstWoman, followed by dinner with the gang.

That's the tentative plans, anyway, subject to emergency expeditions to NJ for kitten rescue (or for anyone who might want to demonstrate tolerance).

I learned a few things tonight:
I like sushi.
Wasabi doesn't bother me like jalapenos do.
I like cold sake.
No one should ever let me drink sake again.

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Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention the kitten. There's a feral cat who raises her kittens in a large deep window well at Daughter's apartment building. It's a safe place where the kittens can't get out until they're big, and nothing else is likely to go in, and there are window grills the kitties can hide behind. Last year, there was one especially pretty one that I said I would be willing to adopt when it was old enough. Well, about the same time Daughter figured it was time, the mother cat moved them. They disappeared.

During last Thursday's phone call, Daughter mentioned that there's another litter looking ready, and asked if I wanted one. I said I don't know, I'd want to see them and pick one, because Miss Thunderfoot would have a fit, so I'd have to really want it. Then she said "Oh. I'll call you back in a few seconds." And she hung up. I thought she'd got another call. Forty minutes passed, so I called her. She and Hercules had spent that time capturing a kitten for me. Duh?

She wanted to bring it to me Saturday. I pointed out that it wouldn't be safe in the car all day, and I couldn't take it into the hotel that night (especially THAT hotel, they already think I'm dangerous), so they'd have to keep it until I could pick it up.

I was shocked when I saw the two of them on Saturday. They were both covered in deep scratches. They've captured a demon cat for me. Hercules wants it GONE, now! So....

The kitten. He/she looks so scared.

1308 Back From the Falls

Monday, June 18, 2007

I'm back from my annual visit to the falls trail. This is the second year that it poured rain all day, even though several web sites had predicted only clouds. We walked anyway, and got soaked, but it was ok. The rain must have been unusual, because the water level was very low. Falls that are usually wide and thundering were dribbles.

I took very few photos, none of the falls. Previous photos are more typical, having actual water.

The Man and I were to meet at a hotel near Scranton at noon on Friday. He was a few hours late due to an unavoidable situation, and things went downhill from there. I may have gotten him banned from that hotel for life. During the course of the stay, I somehow jammed up and overflowed the toilet, overflowed the Jacuzzi, "stole" a chair from another room, rearranged the furniture, created a confusion with the "date" package (dinner, movie, wine) that came with the room, made us late for our Friday dinner reservations, and a few other things. Including forgetting to tip the houseman who was so helpful with the chair and furniture moving issues (which is embarrassing to The Man). And using up a few hundred towels.

Sigh.

When The Man arrived in the parking lot on Friday, I was standing on the room balcony, and he looked up in time to see me waving, as two men were climbing off the balcony into a cherrypicker. Explain that one!

If I ever hear from him again, I'll be impressed with his level of tolerance.

And then Saturday it rained, and we walked the trail anyway. There was some kind of tiny very annoying bug, a gnat or midge, that fell madly in love with The Man. He had bug spray, but it didn't seem to deter them. If he stood still for more than ten seconds, he was surrounded in a cloud of them. They kept trying to climb into his ears.

If I ever hear from him again, I'll be impressed with his level of tolerance.

Daughter and Hercules joined us in the trail parking lot on Saturday. Unless you plan to walk down the mountain AND up, you have to leave one car at the bottom, and then ferry everyone to the top in one car. I don't know why we decided to take The Man's car to the top, but that meant cramming all four of us into his beloved always-spotless Mitsubishi Spider. In hiking shoes that had been tromping around in the rain. I'm sure it was very painful for him, when he saw what lugged hiking boots fresh from a muddy lot can do to carpeting. Even I cringed. It was pretty bad.

If I ever hear from him again (sigh), I'll be impressed with his level of tolerance. Given the Maryland fiasco, and now this, maybe from now on he should plan our weekends.

A very strange thing happened. All the falls are named, of course, and the lowest one, where Jay's ashes are (along with those of my first daughter and some pets), is "Murray Reynolds". The Man and Daughter both noticed that every time I said "Murray Reynolds", the constant drizzle became a downpour. It was very noticeable because it was instantaneous. I even said "Murray Reynolds" a few times just to test it, until Daughter and The Man threatened me with banishment if I said it again.

Daughter and Hercules weren't with us very far. They took off on a side path shortly after the first falls to search for a geocache, and we didn't see them again until the bottom. I usually stop at Murray Renolds and ask for a few minutes alone to talk with Jay a bit, but I didn't do it this time, I guess because of that downpour thing. Like it was a message or something. I don't know. I was actually a little afraid to. The last time I was there with Daughter, something pretty incredible and more than a little scary happened, and I might have been tempted to try for it again (ok, yes, I was very tempted), and I feel like I was being warned off. Ok, I can take a hint. But now I have to wonder why I'd be told not to. What might have happened if I'd tried?

We had Saturday dinner at the little "hotel in the middle of nowhere", and Daughter and Hercules spent the night there.

Well, other than all the icky stuff, the weekend was very good. I hope he remembers the good parts.

Something amazing about him - he notices everything. Nothing gets past him. When we first arrived at the trail parking lot, we drove past a lot of cars and parked near the back. I then walked through the lot looking for a car with NJ plates that might be Daughter's or Hercules's. When I got back to him and said "No other NJ cars here", he said no, they're mostly PA, two NY, one with a Kingston NY plate frame, and then he proceeded to tell me about the various bumper stickers. He had noticed all that driving past looking for a space?

Then, after dinner that evening, he wondered why it took so long for our food to arrive. I said maybe there wasn't enough help. He said there were three waitresses, "Name 1, who was our waitress, and Name2 and Mary". There was no break in the conversation at our table (he and Hercules were playing off each other again), and yet he'd caught the names of the waitresses, including two with whom we'd had no contact?

Sometimes he's scary.
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1307 Thursday Before a Weekend

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Lots of stuff to do yet today. Pay bills, get money, wash hair, pack suitcase, get maps & directions, clean out minivan, clean litter box, send Father's Day card, send a birthday card, ....

Whoa. Maybe I should get started.
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1306 Proxy / Pictures

Anybody know how to make Proxylord.com show pictures? Anonymous browsing via Proxylord is pretty boring.
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1305 Gay Bomb?

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

http://cbs5.com/topstories/local_story_159222541.html

Duh?
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1304 Finished May Museum

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Went in to the museum today, and finished sending the membership cards. Alone. The last 36 were the complicated ones with all the fancy premiums, but it took me only 2 hours. Of course, I screwed up four of the envelopes, and had to reopen them and close them with tape. Big deal. I'm a volunteer, darn it! I'm allowed to screw up!

The volunteer coordinator says it's looking good for getting rid of the premiums. Of course, the renewal reminders I sent out last week still mention them, so there will be one more month of complicated mailings, and then it should get easier.

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I'm doing laundry. Need stuff for the weekend.

Which reminds me -

Four people in the past few weeks have told me they like the way I dress.

They: "I like the way you dress."
Me: "??? (raise eyebrows, tilt head)"
They: "Classy, with a hint of naughty."
They didn't all use the exact same words, those are the words of the male commenter, but that's pretty much what it came down to in each case.

I think I've finally found my style.

When I started to get the wattles under my chin, I started wearing more high collars, turtlenecks and so on. Then I read somewhere that the older neck actually looks better with MORE rather than less exposed. The older woman should wear wide low necklines that show the collarbones and the sides of the neck that slope toward the shoulders, and more of the upper chest (but not a lot of cleavage). It draws attention away from the neck, makes it look longer and tighter.

It works!

Below the hips, I like drapey long stuff, that swings or flutters when I move. Otherwise the lower neckline makes me look wider and shorter. Above the hips, clingy drapey tops with 3/4 sleeves (or at least to the elbow), and top-of-the-hip length collarless jackets.

This is maybe the first time in my life that I like most of my clothes. And all of it's comfortable.
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1303 Quit Bugging Me!

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

The next time you find yourself on a plane, sitting next to someone who cannot resist chattering to you endlessly, quietly pull your laptop out of your bag, carefully open the screen (ensuring the irritating person next to you can see it), and hit this link.

(Can anyone tell me what the writing says, if anything?)
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1302 Who Says the ACLU Does't Have a Sense of Humor?

See this: http://www.aclu.org/pizza/images/screen.swf

Funny.

A little scary.
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1301 What Managers Like to Hear

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Talking with a friend today, about managers in general. I mentioned that with one exception (and he didn't last long), I got along well with my managers. Managers and I "had an understanding".

At some point early in our relationship, in the initial interview, a new manager would ask me what I saw as my job, how would I define my responsibilities (yeah, they all asked. They all went to the same management training course.)

Other people said stuff like designing this, coding that, whatever. My answer was always, "My primary responsibility is to keep you out of trouble." And that really IS what I saw as my job, and what I mainly did.

They would also ask what I expected from them, what I saw as their job.

Other people said stuff like assign projects, help me further my career, and so on. My answer was always, "Trust me, run interference for me, and otherwise keep out of my way."

A third standard question was what are my career aspirations, where did I want to be in ten years.

Other people said stuff like that they wanted the manager's job, or they wanted to make senior, and so on. My answer was "I think that setting a specific goal, and doing things to achieve that goal, is limiting myself. I prefer to learn all I can about everything around me, and then take utmost advantage of opportunities as they appear. Or as I create them. I do intend to stay technical. No management aspirations, so that makes it easier. But I don't see that as limiting."

Mgr: "But you have to have some way to measure yourself."
Me: "Well, I sort of do. When I say something in a meeting, I want everyone to shut up, listen carefully, and think about what I said."
Mgr: "Technical respect. You have that now."
Me: "That's how I know it's time to expand into something I don't know anything about. Got any opportunities?"

Most of my managers grew to depend on me. The more imagination they had, the better the working relationship. I didn't start getting strange reactions until the last few years, when I ran into Corporate honchos.

No imagination there. They were stiff, rule-bound, and running scared. That's when retirement started looking good.

I guess my goal all along was to retire young and comfortably.

P.S. I retired, comfortably, at 49.
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1300 Museum With Helper

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

They brought in a helper for me today. We had 60-some envelopes to stuff with membership cards, various letters, and premium gifts.

The coordinator said, "He's challenged, but he learns quickly." He's sweet, but it think it might have taken longer with him helping. I had him folding letters and putting them in the envelopes, and he was soooooooo precise! I was putting other stuff in the envelopes as he finished them, and stamping and sealing them. When we got down to the last four envelopes for today, I handed him the stamps and told him to put the stamps on those envelopes, and seal them.

He put the stamps on, then he went to the men's room. He took the first of the four envelopes with him. Duh? I heard the water running. When he came back out, the flap of the envelope was soaked, and he was frustrated because it wouldn't stick.

I licked and sealed the other three real quick, while he was waving that one in the air trying to dry it.

We got only 24 done.

One of them is covered in tape.

More to do tomorrow.
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1299 Surfing by Proxy

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

One of my favorite blogs to visit is "Sweet Rose Ramblings (AKA The Call-Waiting Blog)". Shoshana has an eclectic mind and a talent for locating interesting items around the internet. Go see what she's found recently about invisibility, and molecular photography become art, and psychology, who knows what next.

She does my surfing for me!
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1298 The Ebay Song

Monday, June 11, 2007

This is dedicated to all of us who at one time or another have been addicted to eBay.




(If you're viewing this on a feeder, and don't see a video whatsis here, click on the post title.)

1297 Masses of Moca

Monday, June 11, 2007

So, Roman and I went to Mass MOCA yesterday. He came here and then we took my minivan, because the a/c in his car is on the fritz. Turned out we didn't need a/c anyway - the day was cloudy and cool. Mapquest said it should take us a little over two hours to get there. It was actually more like three.

The "CA" stands for "Contemporary Art". Turns out that's pretty much the same as modern art, which we have already determined I don't fully appreciate.

One room absolutely cracked me up. It contained several large framed sheets of plain white paper. Plain, as in pristine. Little labels described the "art". One sheet had been exposed to full sunlight for several hours. One sheet had had a few snowflakes land on and melt on it. One sheet was titled a self-portrait - the artist had positioned his face 14" from the paper and stared at it motionlessly for a while. And so on.

OMG! I cracked up. Literally. The cognoscenti were frowning at me because I was laughing so hard. You've got to admire the salesmanship, anyway.

I ended up admiring the buildings instead (an old textile factory complex). Beautiful craftsmanship and artistry in the exterior brickwork, unexpectedly powerful yet delicate interior trusses.

I could have passed on the factory theme in the restrooms, though.

This is the place that has the trees growing upside down in the courtyard. They don't look at all like the photo any more. Two of the six trees are dead, one is dying, and the rest are almost leafless, struggling, trying to cope. Their "tops" and branches are curving up, twisting, trying to grow up. They look terribly unbalanced, desperately unhappy.

MOCA should do something about them.

We closed the place down, drove back to the Hudson valley, and had a very good dinner at a restaurant near Bard College.

A few weeks ago, we had attended a seminar on Asperger's Syndrome, at which the speaker had recommended the movie "Napoleon Dynamite", for examples of an Aspie's reactions. Roman mentioned that he had borrowed the movie from the library and had meant to bring it to me.

So we went to his house and watched it.
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