Tuesday, March 09, 2010

2801 The collapse of the corporation

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Ray Wilson, in an Amazon reader review of Nickel and Dimed in America: “With the enormous expansion of social programs in the 1960's and 1970's, America waged war on poverty - and poverty won.”

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Becs has written about how the corporate culture has changed. I believe it.

I first joined The Company in 1968. Back then it was still run by the family that grew it, and it was run like a family, with a unique management style. If you made it through the training, it was pretty much taken for granted that you had a job for life, and The Company was interested in the welfare of their employee family. The only way you'd get kicked out was if you did something that amounted to company treason or felony. Being bad at the tasks you were given wouldn't get you fired. There was more a feeling that you were just given the wrong tasks, and a strong effort was made to find what you were good at, and move you into that.

Ex#2 ripped me out of that in 1971, moved me to St. Louis where I went into a support division that had a more military culture (but still very family), then the birth of Daughter with a medical problem pulled me out of that, and I didn't get back to the development plant environment until 1983.

I was shocked at how much had changed. The last of the founding family had retired, and top management was now hired guns. The family feeling was gone. Management training had changed. Where before people had worked as teams because we were all in it together and no member of a team could pull you down, you could just lift people up, now employees were competing against each other. Where before the company was successful because they put out a good product and supported their customers as well as their own people, now the emphasis was on getting money out of the customer without spending more than was necessary.

Over the subsequent years there were all kinds of programs and exercises aimed toward fostering teamwork - but teamwork continued to deteriorate, because when you pit people against one another, they have to ask, "Why should I make you look good, when it only makes me look less good by comparison?" Back in 1968, The Company put an enormous investment in training people, and providing continuing education, so it was in their interests to keep these highly trained people. Now, they expect people to bring the training with them. No investment, no incentive.

I hated the new corporate culture. It just got worse and worse. When they started secret peer reviews, that's when I knew I had to get out. Peer reviews might work in a "family" environment, where there's no personal cost to being honest and helpful, but when people are competing to hold a job, peer reviews turn vicious. The goal is no longer to help management assign resources, but to confuse management.

Nowadays, people are nothing but furniture to be exploited. Get a few chairs in when you need them, throw them out when you don't. I don't know why anyone would feel any loyalty to the company, why they'd want to make her shine. Just do the minimum required to get the check, because even if you are outstanding, if your project is canned for some arbitrary reason, you will be too. They don't care about you, so why should you care about them?

This is not good.
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Monday, March 08, 2010

2800 Weekend with Mensa

Monday, March 8, 2010

In the movie "The Third Man", a character observes that thirty years of turmoil in Italy under the Borgias produced Michelangelo, Leonardo DaVinci, and the Renaissance, while five hundred years of peace in Switzerland produced the cuckoo clock.

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I went to the Central NJ Mensa regional gathering this past weekend. It was pretty much as expected. Nothing great, nothing to complain about. A fairly large contingent of the local group went. Without naming names, here we all are:
That's me in the middle, in yellow. Silk in context.

The gathering was over at noon on Sunday, and everyone else went home, but I stayed over another night. The Man joined me Saturday evening, through noon today. He and I had met at this gathering in 2007, so this was effectively our third anniversary, but there was no way he was going to attend the gathering. He dislikes Mensans in general (even though we're both members), and especially dislikes gatherings. Mensans in general are rather lacking in social graces, and many actions thoroughly disgust him. Sunday evening he mentioned how at a gathering in Maryland he and I had attended together (and the last he agreed to go to), I almost got run over by the stampede of 400-lb slobs when the chocolate orgy started.

It so happened that there were a few incidents that would have thoroughly disgusted him, so It's just as well he stayed away.

We hadn't seen each other in a long time. Stuff going on that made it difficult.

Yeah, I'm in love again.

Funny how when you haven't seen someone in ages you see things you hadn't seen before.

He's big and strong. His appearance can be rather threatening. He's had some serious adversity and emotional pain in his life, and has come through it with only a little baggage. I see him as very strong, very powerful, very much in control of everything.

Last night and this morning I've modified that a bit. Yes, he's mentally and physically strong and mature. But not emotionally so. In a lot of ways he's got a lot of little boy in there. Well, all men do in one way or another, but his little boy lives in a different place than most men's. I think he may be quite fragile in some ways. Very emotionally protective. I'll have to keep that in mind.

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I had taken Jasper to Pussyfoot Lodge, hoping that this short stay would get him ready for a longer stay in April, when I go to Morocco. That didn't work out at all. He didn't eat, drink, or piddle the whole time, and he completely freaked out in the carrier coming home. It was so bad that he had long thick streams of drool, and at one point I thought he'd had a stroke.

I guess I'm going to have to leave him home and have someone come in to feed him while I'm gone. That means I've got a hair over two weeks to whip the house into company-shape. It's some indication of how bad it is that I'm not sure I can do it.

(Two weeks, because the week before I leave for Morocco, I'll be going with The Man on a multi-day trip to Virginia, home for three days, then off to north Africa. So everything has to be done before Virginia.)
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Friday, March 05, 2010

2799 Little Bitty Dream

Friday, March 5, 2010

Money cannot buy love, but it can put you in a good bargaining position.

(Random quote! Honest! No connection to this entry!)

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I had a dream a few nights ago, and it was so clear and has stuck with me so long, it must have meaning, but I can't figure it out. Sometimes simply writing a dream down makes it clear.

I'm in a motel/inn room. Very early morning, sun is just coming up. Rustic, lace curtains and embroidered spread kind of place, Maine shore feeling. The door and window open onto a boardwalk with a bay full of fishing boats directly below. The wide window has lacy cafe curtains that are closed on the bottom but open on the top.

With me in the room is a guy I'd apparently been dating for a while, but had not slept with. Slender, dark hair and eyes, pale complexion. I like him, and I know he likes me. I guess it was a late night, because we're just getting into the bed. I'm wearing a bra and panties. He's naked, although I hadn't actually seen him naked yet, he's already in the bed when I come out of the bathroom. He's lying flat on his back. I climb into the bed and snuggle next to him with my head on his shoulder.

He doesn't say anything, but I can tell he's nervous, uncomfortable, like he's not sure how to act. I push him over onto his back, figuring maybe a back rub would relax him, to sleep if nothing else. I pull the comforter aside in a heap, and find he has a beautiful back, and a glorious backside, high, round, tight, just the way I like it, with the perfect narrow hips I adore. Yummy. I crouch over him and start massaging and kissing his back, working my way down.

Just about then, the door is flung open wide, and there's the cleaning lady. She's like something out of a cartoon - lacy mob cap, comfy plumb body, grey bunned hair, apron, with a bucket in one hand and a string mop in the other. She says, "Oh, hello, good morning", like it's perfectly natural, and she stands in the doorway chatting, asking if we have visited the local sights and attractions yet, natter natter natter. I sit up and stare at her in shock. "Um, could you come back later? Like this afternoon?" She seems a bit surprised by my request, but she shrugs and leaves.

It sounds like the hamlet is waking. A lot of activity out there now, around the boats and on the boardwalk. The guy seems perfectly relaxed now, so I roll him back over onto his back. Anything that happens now is up to him, but I decide to take a peek anyway.

Down there, where there should be all kinds of interesting stuff, there's nothing. Well, almost nothing. There are concentric circles of loosely piled skin toward the front, like ripples in a pool. In the middle there's a tiny nubbin, smaller than the blunt end of a nylon-tipped pen, just barely peeking out. No "jewels". Nothing. The rest is perfectly smooth.

He has his eyes closed and may be asleep, but I guess now I know what he was worried about. I kneel there staring, trying to figure it out, when I catch activity outside the window. Some guys have arrived, in white canvas coveralls, apparently to paint a mural on the external wall. They can see in over the top of the cafes! They don't look, but they'd see all (or nothing!) if they did.

The windows swing open and closed like doors, on hinges, and the latches are both on the inside and outside. One of the men casually opens outward one panel of the window so he can put a can of paint on the inside window sill. Convenient, I guess. Then he pushed the cafe curtain to the side to keep it out of the can. Now anyone walking outside can see in.

I jump up, go to the window, hand him his can back, pull closed and firmly latch the windows, close the curtains, wonder what I can do about the top uncurtained part of the window, and stand there for a minute wondering why all these people seem to have no respect for our privacy! And seem to consider it perfectly natural.

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Ok. I figured it out. Explanation later, maybe.... Anyone can attempt a guess, but I think it requires knowledge no one else has right now. Sorry. Useful exercise anyway.
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Thursday, March 04, 2010

2798 Thursday stuff

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Democracy is the worst system in the world - except for the other ones.
-- Unknown --

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Falling down on this blogging stuff. Not much happening. I was sick in the throat and chest Monday, the diarrhea and queasy stomach (probably due to the zinc tabs) started Tuesday, and Wednesday I felt better, but I was weak.

When the throat and chest started on Monday, I dug through the medicine cabinet to see what I had that might help. There were all kinds of cold remedies there, but the expiration dates gave me pause - 2001, 2003. There were even some from the '90s. The most recent was a Tylenol severe cold prep with a 2009 date, so I took some of that. It worked. I hope it didn't kill my liver.

Yesterday was the first day I could get out, so I went to the pharmacy and stocked up on various head/throat/chest combinations. Naturally, the very act seemed to vanquish the virus. I haven't even opened the packages. The expiration dates on all this is late 2011. I found myself hoping I'd get sick between now and then, so I could use the flippin' stuff.

You'd think that with such short effective dates, and the fact that it's taken by the ounce, they'd sell at least the liquids in smaller packages. What do they expect you to do with it when it expires? Dump it down the drain, into the water supply?

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Dinner this evening at a Puerto Rican restaurant with the southern Orange County Mensans. This weekend is the central NJ Mensa gathering. None of the southern Orange folks had ever been to a regional gathering, so I talked a bunch into signing up for it. They're getting all excited about it. When I got sick I was so worried that I wouldn't be able to go. Irony there.

But, I'm going, and I've arranged for Jasper to stay through Monday at Pussyfoot Lodge (kitty summer camp - that's where each kitty gets a room with a window and a bird feeder outside), to see how he does before the big stay for the Morocco trip. Which trip, by the way, I am seriously wondering is going to happen at all. The woman organizing it is unresponsive.

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I've been on the diabetes diet for three weeks now, eating tiny amounts six times a day. It feels like I'm eating constantly, and when I total up what I eat each day, it's like twice the mass quantity of what I'd normally have eaten. I was worried that I'd gain weight, but I've lost 4 pounds! Cutting out fat and sugar and increasing protein really does make a difference. I try to keep each meal close to 300 calories, and each snack around 100.

TMI: This diet has a lot more fiber than I've been used to. It's messed up my poopies. I've never had problems in that area. I go every mid-morning, and it's always the previous day's intake. It knocks and says, I'm here. I sit down, and it does its thing with no effort on my part. All of a piece, not too hard, not too soft, a rich dark tan or brown, and that's it. (Occasionally, if I've eaten too much during the day, there's an evening delivery, too, and that can be very soft and a bit of a surprise, but that's highly unusual.)

So with all this fiber I was expecting some change. I was not expecting hard and reluctant one day and watery the next, and generally the color of old gold. I don't like this change at all. I thought fiber and low fat was supposed to be good.

Maybe it's because I'm allowed much less fruit daily than I had been eating before. I didn't realize how much fruit I ate until I couldn't have it. Apples, pears, dates, figs, melons, plums, prunes, bananas, oranges, berries, ... I used to eat two, three, four or more fruits a day. Now I'm allowed one serving of fruit - which is defined as half a banana, half an apple, half an orange, or 1/4 cup of berries - and it must be eaten with a protein. That's *half* a fruit.

I guess I used to eat like a bear, or a monkey. Far as I know, neither of them have problems pooping.
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Tuesday, March 02, 2010

2797 Sick

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

"The fact that man knows right from wrong proves his intellectual superiority to other creatures; but the fact that he can do wrong proves his moral inferiority to any creature that cannot."
-- Mark Twain --

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Sick. Not really a cold - no phlegm - just very dry sore throat and chest, headache, fever. Non-productive coughing that doubles me over. No stomach involvement, but no appetite, either.

I went to a community theater play Sunday afternoon, in an old historic building. I'd been fine before I went, but the minute I walked in the building I could smell mold. Within minutes I was sneezing, then the coughing started. I left at intermission, and by the time I got home, I was sick sick sick. I couldn't even walk straight. I don't know if the mold started something of its own, or if it exacerbated a virus I'd heretofore been winning against.

I spent most of yesterday in bed, dozing, thinking about the groceries left in the car at the bottom of the driveway, too steep, too weak, too heavy. It hasn't been cold enough for things to freeze (eggs, yogurt, fruit?).

My chest hurts. I'm hungry but I can't think of a single thing I want to eat.
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Sunday, February 28, 2010

2796 The plebeian "We Are..." and other stuff

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Why is the gift of intelligence so often given to people too stupid to know what to do with it?
-- Lev Grossman, Time, 3/15/04 --

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Celebrities have remade "We Are the World" to benefit Haiti. That version is easy to find on YouTube. But, a bunch of less well-known people have also done it. Some of these people are pro or semi-pro, some are pure amateur. I think they all have made "cover" videos on YouTube, that's what they have in common, and that's how they got invited to participate. They recorded separately, and then it was edited together. It's good. Hell, it's great!

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hhX0KkQBW4] The full description is at the link, with info on contributing to Haiti.

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Remember when we were small, and the edges of roofs had icicles? Big thick long ones? And parents always warned you not to walk under them 'cause they could fall and impale you? And every winter, somewhere in the country, someone was killed on the street by icicles falling from a high building? Yeah. Howcum we never see icicles any more? Not even on things like sheds and barns that don't have guttering. What happened to icicles?

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Some sports have weight classes. They figure a 150 lb. person shouldn't have to wrestle with a 250 lb person and so on. Weight can be too much of an advantage.

So why don't they have classes for leg length in speed skating, running, and so on, where long legs have a definite advantage over short?

You have some control over your weight, but none over your limb length. This is unfair!

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In all the interviews and stories I've heard and read about runaway Toyotas, I have yet to hear anyone mention slamming the thing into neutral so you can pull over. I haven't heard anyone say they tried it and it didn't work, or trying it and it did work. Nothing.

Why not?

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I've mentioned the town near here named "Milan", like the city in Italy. But here it's pronounced "MY lun". Well, I found another. It's a village named "Chili". The locals pronounce it "Chai lye". Do they do that on purpose, so they can laugh at visitors?

Snork.
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2795 Recycling weird stuff

Sunday, February 28, 2010

The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they suppress.
-- Frederick Douglas --

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After Jay died and I cleaned out the basement, I found many bottles of chemicals. A lot of it was darkroom chemicals, clearly labeled, but there were also many small bottles with missing, cryptic, or indecipherable labels. What labels I can understand sound downright dangerous. Jay was a chemistry major in college, and had always been interested in ... experiments.

They're still down there. I don't know what to do with them.

Switched.com has a post today [http://www.switched.com/2010/02/28/dispose-of-your-gadgets-properly-with-1800recycle-com/] about recycling, specifically electronics, but they have a link to a site [http://1800recycling.com/] where you can enter any type of material and your zip code, and they'll tell you where you can take it.

So they found me a place in Connecticut, about 2 hours away, that will accept hazardous chemicals and expired medications. Not convenient, but at least it's someplace.

Then I tried "clear glass", and they gave me a recycle center 8 miles away. Duh? I guess they don't know about the recycle center in the village, 2.5 miles away.

Still, somewhere is better than nowhere.
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Saturday, February 27, 2010

2794 Privatization? Still?

Saturday, February 27, 2010

It's always been and will always be the same in the world: the horse does the work and the coachman is tipped.

Think of this the next time your manager is rewarded for your work.

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A few years ago, when some in Congress were advocating privatization of Social Security, I was aghast that they seemed to have forgotten that SS came out of the stock market crash of 1929 and resulting depression (which WWI got us out of, BTW).

The idea is that one's retirement years should be supported by a combination of company retirement, individual savings and investment, family, and because none of those three are under your control and guaranteed to be there when you need them, no matter how diligent and careful you are, at least SS would be safe and sure and keep you fed.

I cannot believe that a certain Texas congressman is still advocating privatization! Where has he been the past two years? (Advocates are giving it a different name, but it's still privatization.)

The problem isn't with the social security system as it was originally set up. The problem started in 1965 when Social Security was changed to pull SS funds out of the independent Trust Fund and put it into the General Fund for additional congressional revenue. (Think about that a minute. Sorta like what NYS did with lottery proceeds, which law was supported only because we were promised it would all go to education, but now it's used for everything but.)

SS is holding congressional IOU's, which Congress doesn't want to repay. They'd rather dump risk on you than pay back what they stole. THAT's the problem!

I don't understand.
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2793 Hint for when a winter storm threatens

Saturday, February 27, 2010

The most exciting phrase to hear in science,
the one that heralds new discoveries, is not "Eureka!', but
"That's funny..."
-- Isaac Asimov --

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If you suspect that you will be losing power, boost the thermostat to some ridiculous height, like maybe 78 or more degrees. That way when the heat goes out, everything in the house is at that temperature - walls, furniture, floors, sinks - and they will keep the house a little warmer for a little while longer. And fill the bathtub. The water will also be at "room temperature" (especially if you initially filled it with hot water), and will also come in handy for bucket-flushing toilets when the well pump takes a hike.

Don't worry about wasting oil. Once everything reaches the set temperature, it doesn't cost any more to keep it there (assuming your house is tight and well insulated), and what extra you did use getting it there will be offset by what isn't used when the power goes out.

If the power doesn't go out, well, you can pretend you had a tropical vacation, nice when there's a blizzard out there, and still cheaper than a real one.
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Friday, February 26, 2010

2792 Snow? You want snow?

Friday, February 26, 2010

If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.
-- Carl Sagan --

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I got an email canceling tomorrow's ski trip, containing this text:
"Cross-country ski at Mountain Trails XC Ski Center near Tannersville, scheduled to occur on Saturday, February 27, 2010 9:30 AM has been canceled. Please update your plans accordingly.

The ski center has gotten 5 feet(!) of new snow this week, which would be great except that they have lots of trees down on all the trails and no electricity. And they have 90% probability of snow for Saturday and 60% for Sunday. I'll re-schedule for either Mar 13 or Mar 14."
Wow. If I fell in five feet of snow, they'd never find me!
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2791 A charming video

Friday, February 26, 2010

"Most people who believe in Hell feel sure it is not their final destination.
... Anyone who believes in hell, I find, also believes in hateful ways of avoiding it.
Fear of hell tends to make women into victims, men into bullies,
and everyone into line-toeing robots."
-- Gillian Kendall --

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This is a charming video clip. It should be one of three. If you can locate the other two, I'd appreciate a pointer.

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_eE2-mhaCo]

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Sometimes I wish I had a landlord. Then I could complain and get things fixed, like the deteriorating and now badly plow-damaged driveway. I pay the town and county $500 a month for the privilege of living in this house. That's sort of like a landlord; they'd throw me out if I didn't pay the "rent". I ought to be able to get them to fix it.

I wish.
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2790 Gravel & Salt

Friday, February 26, 2010

The United States is like the guy at the party who gives cocaine to everybody and still nobody likes him.
-- Jim Samuels --

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Until this past storm (more snow/sleet/rain coming over the next four days, by the way), we'd had very little snow. The few days when the temperature was below freezing, the roads were dry. So I really don't understand why the town road crews have been so enthusiastic.

There's so much gravel on my street that you don't slide on ice (there IS no ice), you slide on gravel! There's so much that the road doesn't look paved, it looks like a dirt road.

On the highways it doesn't matter, because there's enough fast traffic that the gravel gets blown to the sides of the road (where it builds up on the berm, clogs the ditches and stormwater drains, and kills lawns). But with very little traffic on our street it just stays there. Several times, on perfectly dry surface, I've slid wide through the curves, at 25 mph, sliding on the gravel.

It's not a sharp-edged gravel. The bits are smoothly rounded, like river pebbles, the largest about the size of the pink part of a fingernail. It doesn't look like the best stuff for traction. "Hey, let's throw little marbles on the road! That'll do it!"

I don't understand.

The town will eventually come around with huge noisy street sweeper machines to gather it all up, but in past years that hasn't happened until June, I guess because we're a rural dead-end road, and by then the gravel and salt-laden sand is all off the road and in the lawns.

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I'm afraid to complain, because then we might get nothing at all. I don't think the highway department management is all that bright. For example, the state is upset because the Hudson River is getting salty further up than the sea tides go, so they blame ships that come up the river and dump seawater ballast, replacing it with fresh river water, which they then sell to islands.

The Hudson is a huge river. It's three times as wide at Kingston as the Mississippi is at St. Louis, and likely a comparable depth. (Maps.google.com - you'll see. It's amazing.) How many ship ballasts would it take to make it brackish? Why has no one noticed that the towns, counties, and state dump thousands of tons of salt on the road every winter, and all that surface runoff eventually ends up in the river? (The ground is frozen. It will ALL be runoff.)

I suspect that it's because it's an easy fix to blame foreign ships. If you blame road salt, you have to fix it, and nobody wants to think about that. The old "Don't complain unless you already have the solution."
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Thursday, February 25, 2010

2789 Thirty-six hellish hours

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Folks who rejoice that "The system works!" are usually referring to another's parking ticket, not their own.

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Heavy wet snow Tuesday. Too heavy for the snowthrower, so I had no choice but to call the plow guy. He said that even though it hadn't stopped yet, he'd have to plow every seven inches or so, because it was so heavy. It snowed through to Wednesday early afternoon, about 15" of heavy wet, so that meant two plowings, at $55 each. Yeouch!

I hate winter.

The heavy soggy wet snow took down trees (including several large branches in my yard, one across the driveway), so we lost power at about 1 am Wednesday. That means no lights, heat, phone, water, internet. The power didn't come back on until about noon today, Thursday. By this morning the temp in the house was 51, which is pretty good, actually.

As if that weren't bad enough, there's the saga of the Morocco trip. The organizer had told us via an email two weeks ago that we would have a meeting with the tour guide on the 24th, which was last night, meeting place TBD. I had sent her at least two emails over the past week asking where, please, since if it's in NYC I'll need to plan ahead. As of Tuesday morning, still no response. So Tuesday morning I sent her a stern note, adding that I was beginning to have misgivings about this whole venture. Tuesday afternoon she sent a note to all of us that we would be meeting at 7 pm Wednesday at a particular Moroccan restaurant on Bowery.

I fired off a note to The Man asking him if it would be better for me to take the train and subway, or to drive. I was worried about parking. He advised driving, because then I wouldn't be on the subway late at night. Turns out that if you Google "parking NYC", you can get not only maps of licensed parking lots and garages, you can make a reservation and lock in the charges. I spent most of Tuesday evening doing the research.

Come Wednesday morning, no power, no internet. Glad I'd got the info the night before. Washed the best I could with baby wipes. Located an outfit in the walkin closet by flashlight. I left the house at 3:45 pm, drove south through snow, then rain, then heavy fog, the first dry road was the Sprain Parkway. Rush hour. GPS found the garage at 6:30, two blocks from restaurant. 2 hour and 45 minute drive in miserable conditions.

Looked for organizer in the restaurant. Nope. Lots of people walked up to me and introduced themselves, very strange - surprise, the whole restaurant had been hired for an AOL presentation, presence by invitation only. I just happened to arrive before the person with the invitee list got set up and was stopping people at the door. 7:15, still no one from the Morocco group - not that I'd recognize anyone anyway. 7:30 I asked the list-woman at the door if anyone else had tried to get in, asking for the organizer. She said yes, that one woman had asked for a Danielle, something about a meeting, and seemed upset.

So I left and went home. Thoroughly pissed. 2 hour drive home. Electricity still off. I should have been able to make it up the driveway, but the plow guy had plowed too far to the left, off the pavement and into the lawn, and I got stuck in the mud! Rain on top of snow slop and horribly chewed up lawn equals mud. Rocked the car out, chewing up lawn more. Walked up 300' driveway in the rain, leaving car at bottom.

Snowing again this morning. Huge fat flakes that quickly covered the front of the car as I was cleaning off the back. I'd packed up the laptop intending to head for Piper's office, find out what happened to the meeting. The village seems to always have power, no matter what. I parked right in front of his office. The office was dark and locked, but he had given me a key a year or two ago, on another power outage occasion. I left the car running and my purse in the car, while I checked whether the key still worked - his door had been replaced recently, and I wasn't sure whether the lock had been changed, too.

Here's where habit can hurt. I NEVER lock my car unless I actually have the keys in my hand, and I taught Daughter the same rule. ALWAYS lock the car with the hand holding the key. So I locked the car door with the hand holding the key. The office key.

Yes, I do have a spare car key. In my purse. In the running car. And, oh, yeah, the key didn't work in the new office door.

Lady in the liquor store called the police for me. I stood outside in the clumps of falling snow waiting. He came with his slim-jim and wiped the snow off the side windows to see where the lock posts were, and that's when I discovered that the back driver's side door was unlocked. Embarrassment supreme. I hugged the cop.

He had to take a report anyway, but the snow was falling fast, so we stepped into the pedestrian alley next to Piper's office, but the snow was falling there, too, so we stepped into a recessed rear doorway in the alley, where he wrote down all the info. Only later did it occur to me that anyone who had seen me hug him in the street might wonder what I was bribing him with back there in the alley, to avoid a ticket or something.

Back home, not without further insult. As I was walking up the driveway, a huge clump of soggy snow fell off a branch right on the top of my head, and down my neck. Electricity came on a few minutes after I got home.

Turns out the organizer had sent an email canceling the meeting at 4:40 pm, 45 minutes after I had left the house to drive to the city. The reason? The tour guy wasn't able to make it in from NJ because of the weather. It was raining!!! in NJ! Just rain! I fired off a note to her about my trip in, and told her that her tour guide was a wimp! Haven't heard from her in response, which doesn't surprise me.

Now, this woman is a professional event organizer. She's got a lot going on, but she's not very professional.
a) She didn't check with the restaurant beforehand to ensure that we could meet there.
b) When she sent the cancellation email, she should have requested an acknowledgment that the message had been read.
c) Having been unsure we had read the email, she should have been AT the restaurant at the appointed time anyway, just to make sure, in case someone showed up,
d) or at the very least, she should have called the restaurant at or just before 7 pm to ask them to page any of us and pass us the message.

I intensely dislike this woman already, and I don't even know her. She's sloppy. If she were my employee, I'd fire her.

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The one piece of good luck was that I had ordered one of those lights you wear on your forehead from Woot.com, and it arrived in Tuesday's mail. Those things are great! I even used it to do crosswords in bed Wednesday night.
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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

2788 Facts are the Pitts

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Half the American people have never read a newspaper.
Half have never voted for president.
One hopes it is the same half.
-- Gore Vidal --

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

I have always liked Leonard Pitts, but my local paper no longer carries him. Don't know why. I found this on another blog, and I agree with Mr. Pitts once again. I often find myself screaming at the radio and TV when people tell blatant lies, lies they KNOW are lies, that the least bit of critical thinking will expose as lies, but they seem to think it's ok because people will believe them anyway in the face of facts, because it's what they want to hear. The US is going to hell, and this is why, and it drives me crazy.

Leonard Pitts Jr. / Syndicated columnist

Don't confuse them with facts

To listen to talk radio, to watch TV pundits, to read a newspaper's online message board, is to realize that increasingly, we are a people estranged from critical thinking, divorced from logic, alienated from even objective truth.

Syndicated columnist

I got an e-mail the other day that depressed me.

It concerned a piece I recently did that mentioned Henry Johnson, who was awarded the French Croix de Guerre in World War I for single-handedly fighting off a company of Germans (some accounts say there were 14, some say almost 30, the ones I find most authoritative say there were about two dozen) who threatened to overrun his post.

Johnson managed this despite the fact that he was only 5-foot-4 and 130 pounds, despite the fact that his gun had jammed, despite the fact that he was wounded 21 times.

My mention of Johnson's heroics drew a rebuke from a fellow named Ken Thompson, which I quote verbatim and in its entirety:

"Hate to tell you that blacks were not allowed into combat intell (sic) 1947, that fact. World War II ended in 1945. So all that feel good, one black man killing two dozen Nazi, is just that, PC bull."

In response, my assistant, Judi Smith, sent Mr. Thompson proof of Johnson's heroics: a link to his page on the Web site of Arlington National Cemetery. She thought this settled the matter.

Thompson's reply? "There is no race on headstones and they didn't come up with the story in tell (sic) 2002."

Judi: "I guess you can choose to believe Arlington National Cemetery or not."

Thompson: "It is what it is, you don't believe either ... "

At this point, Judi forwarded me their correspondence, along with a despairing note. She is probably somewhere drinking right now.

You see, like me, she can remember a time when facts settled arguments. This is back before everything became a partisan shouting match, back before it was permissible to ignore or deride as "biased" anything that didn't support your worldview.

If you and I had an argument and I produced facts from an authoritative source to back me up, you couldn't just blow that off. You might try to undermine my facts, might counter with facts of your own, but you couldn't just pretend my facts had no weight or meaning.

But that's the intellectual state of the union these days, as evidenced by all the people who still don't believe the president was born in Hawaii or that the planet is warming. And by Mr. Thompson, who doesn't believe Henry Johnson did what he did.

I could send him more proof, I suppose. Johnson is lauded in history books ("Before the Mayflower" by Lerone Bennett Jr., "The Dictionary of American Negro Biography" by Rayford Logan and Michael Winston) and in contemporaneous accounts (The Saturday Evening Post, The New York Times). I could also point out that blacks have fought in every war in American history, though before Harry Truman desegregated the military in 1948, they did so in Jim Crow units. Also, there were no Nazis in World War I.

But those are "facts," and the whole point here is that facts no longer mean what they once did. I suppose I could also ignore him. But you see, Ken Thompson is not just some isolated eccentric. No, he is the Zeitgeist personified.

To listen to talk radio, to watch TV pundits, to read a newspaper's online message board, is to realize that increasingly, we are a people estranged from critical thinking, divorced from logic, alienated from even objective truth. We admit no ideas that do not confirm us, hear no voices that do not echo us, sift out all information that does not validate what we wish to believe.

I submit that any people thus handicapped sow the seeds of their own decline; they respond to the world as they wish it were rather to the world as it is. That's the story of the Iraq war.

But objective reality does not change because you refuse to accept it. The fact that you refuse to acknowledge a wall does not change the fact that it's a wall.

And you shouldn't have to hit it to find that out.


Miami Herald columnist Leonard Pitts Jr.'s column appears regularly on editorial pages all over the country. A link to this column: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/editorialsopinion/2011132171_pitts21.html.

You know, when I was young, critical thinking was taught in the schools. When did it stop?
.

Monday, February 22, 2010

2787 The music of your site!

Monday, February 22, 2010

Thomas Edison said he'd never failed; he successfully found 14,000 ways
not to make a light bulb.

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

Everyone must absolutely immediately go to http://www.codeorgan.com/! You put in the URL of a website, and it examines the code and then plays the music generated by the code of that site. If you click on the "About" on the right, it tells you how they do it, and supposedly if you know something about music theory and the mathematics thereof, it makes sense.

I tried a bunch.

The Queen's (http://mocklog.typepad.com/queen_mediocretia/) blog music is beautiful, melodic, ethereal.
The Gypsy's blog (http://mysteryelfx.livejournal.com/) has major drums and two-finger clavichord, really cool.
The Gypsy's business site (http://www.crimsongypsy.com/) has drums again, and jazzy bass guitar. It ended much too soon.
Rockycat (http://rockygrace.blogspot.com/) gets rocky banging drums, and soft organic water music, total contradiction.
My son-in-law gets rock guitar. Eh.
My niece in Belgium (http://chrizlovestobitch.blogspot.com/) gets an actual cohesive composition.
Becs' blog (http://becsagain.blogspot.com/) produces a demented church organist on vacation.

Me? I get a South American monkey on a synthesizer, who knows only three notes and plays them over and over.

Sigh.

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

Later: If the website has not been updated, you'll get the same music. If it has been updated since the previous playing, the music might be different.
.

2786 Stupid Squared

Monday, February 22, 2010

I have the body of a Corvette. A '66 Corvette.

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

Somebody on Craigslist is selling $10 worth of diaper coupons for $15, explaining that they arrived free in the mail, and he/she has no use for them, and the extra $5 is for shipping.

The stupid gets squared if someone buys them.

Contest: How many things can you find wrong with this offer? Comments, please.
.

2785 Schadenfreude?

Monday, February 22, 2010

From the 1985 movie "Bliss": "The entire economy of the Western world
is built on things that cause cancer."

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

The guy who flew the plane into the IRS office in Texas left an explanatory screed on his website. The FBI had it taken down within hours, but The Smoking Gun copied and preserved it *here*. I'm not sure what to think of it, and not sure how much of his problems were of his own making, but I'm sure it expresses a growing frustration on the part of many.

He ends with:
The Communist Creed: From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.
The Capitalist Creed: From each according to his gullibility, to each according to his greed.

Unfortunately, that's true. The optimistic one doesn't work because people are people, and the cynical one works as advertised because people are people.

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

Almost two years ago I wrote about friend NJ's cancer diagnosis, which we all discovered when she hosted a party at her home, wearing a chemo pump. The next day, I called her and left a message offering my services in driving, shopping, whatever assistance she needed. I got no response, not even a "Thanks, but no." Ok, she wants privacy.

A few weeks or months after that, I wrote (at http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2008/09/2010-afternoon-with-police-and.html) about when NJ "went missing", and drunken overreacting friend May's call to the police to break into NJ's house to check on her. I had rushed down to NJ's house to head off the police if possible. Turned out NJ was in the hospital for surgery, followed by a long rehabilitation, and was extremely angry that May had freaked out to such a degree. It was clear to me that NJ wanted privacy, didn't want any of us bothering her, and she said that if May showed up at the hospital she'd have her thrown out.

Weeks later, NJ was back home, and May called me in tears saying that NJ was very angry with her because May'd "had her front door broken in". Implication was that it was destroyed. Um, I was there. There was no breaking of anything. The police entered through an unlatched window (with the assistance of fire department ladders) and opened the door from inside, and relocked it when they left, and I had told NJ that.

Well, this was not the first time that I'd ended up between those two in one of their spats, and somehow I always seem to end up getting smeared with the mud. So at that point I backed off completely. I didn't call NJ to atempt to straighten it out. I figured I'd leave it to NJ to contact me if she wanted to. Otherwise, *shrug*. And in the past year she has not contacted me.

So I was very surprised to get an email from her last week. She sent it to seven of her Mensa friends requesting help moving things out of her White Plains office this past weekend. It seems she lost the job because of her illness.

I don't know how I got on that short list. Apparently Les and I were the only ones to volunteer. Does that word "schadenfreude" fit here?

So yesterday I went with her and Les to White Plains and helped move her out. One of the items was a small refrigerator. Bigger than you'd find in a hotel room, slightly smaller than a dishwasher. Les and I were trying to maneuver it through a side door of a borrowed Ford Explorer (because the rear hatch wouldn't open), and the main joint of my middle finger of my left hand got smashed between the refrigerator and the door. I was yelping OW! OW! OW!, and it stayed stuck for several seconds because Les couldn't see over the freakin' fridge and didn't know what was wrong, so he just stayed still, afraid to do anything.

I was worried for a while because I couldn't bend the finger, and it stayed completely numb for a half hour. Nothing broken, feels ok today, no swelling, but there's dark purple on the sides and red on top, and I'm expecting one heck of a bruise.

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

Speaking of schadenfreude, if you drive a Toyota, read this: http://blogs.wsj.com/law/2010/02/19/will-former-toyota-lawyer-be-whistleblower-amid-safety-mess/?mod=rss_WSJBlog. Especially the last two short paragraphs.
.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

2784 Stupid test day.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

We must never confuse dissent with disloyalty.
-- Edward R. Morrow --

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


Your result for The 3 Variable Funny Test...

Your humor style:
CLEAN | COMPLEX | LIGHT

Your humor has an intellectual, even conceptual slant to it. You're not pretentious, but you're not into what some would call 'low humor' either. You'll laugh at a good dirty joke, but you definitely prefer something clever to something moist.

You probably like well-thought-out pranks and/or spoofs and it's highly likely you've tried one of these things yourself. In a lot of ways, yours is the most entertaining type of humor because it's smart without being mean-spirited.

Take The 3 Variable Funny Test at OkCupid

Yeah, I guess. The fastest way for a new acquaintance to turn me off completely is to tell a dirty or mean-spirited joke. I also don't find video clips of people getting hurt at all funny, no matter how stupid their actions were.

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

Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test...

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 100% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at OkCupid

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

Your result for The LONG Scientific Personality Test...

INTJ -The Mastermind

You scored 18% I to E, 47% N to S, 52% F to T, and 42% J to P!

You are more introverted than extroverted. You are more intuitive than observant, you are more thinking based than feeling based, and you prefer to have a plan rather than leaving things to chance. Your type is best described by the word "mastermind", which belongs to the larger group called rationals. Only 1% of the population shares your type. You are very strong willed and self-confident. You can hardly rest until you have things settled. You will only adopt ideas and rules if they make sense. You are a great brainstormer and often come up with creative solutions to difficult problems. You are open to new concepts, and often actively seek them out.

As a romantic partner, you can be both fascinating yet demanding. You are not apt to express your emotions, leaving your partner wondering where they are with you. You strongly dislike repeating yourself or listening to the disorganized process of sorting through emotional conflicts. You see your own commitments as self-evident and don't see why you need to repeat something already expressed. You have the most difficulty in admitting your vulnerabilities. You feel the most appreciated when your partner admires the quality of your innovations and when they listen respectfully to your ideas and advice. You need plenty of quiet to explore your interests to the depth that gives you satisfaction.

Your group summary: rationals (NT)

Your type summary: INTJ
Take The LONG Scientific Personality Test at OkCupid

Hmmm. Ok. I mostly agree with the first paragraph, but not so much with the second. I DO express my emotions, my partner never has to wonder. I enjoy sorting through emotional conflicts, and I have been accused of repeating stuff, just to make sure they "got it" and completely understand it, you know?

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

Your result for The Best Personality Type for You Test...

ENTJ - Commandant

You scored 75 I versus E, 40 N versus S, 80 F versus T, and 100 J versus P!

Your ideal mate is known as The Commandant. As a romantic partner, this type is inspiring, but also somewhat challenging. They have a strong desire to be in charge and their clear need for an organized life and home can be overwelming to a partner. They like to confront conflict directly, discuss problems unflinchingly, solve them, then put them behind you both. However, they can be too impatient or unwilling to take the time to listen to their partners and give them a chance to express themselves fully so that their partners also have a sense of closure. They are generally uncomfortable dealing with emotions, so they are apt to dismiss their partner's emotions as illogical. They feel most appreciated when their partners ask for their opinions, take their advice, and rely on them to get a job done right.

The group summary: rationals (NT)

The type summary: ENTJ

Take The Best Personality Type for You Test at OkCupid

Hmmm. When I took this test, I very carefully did NOT consider any of the men I've been involved with, ever. I really did consider the choices carefully, and tried to choose descriptors of the ideal man, one whom I could both live with and respect. Some of the choices were between those two - be comfortable with, OR respect - and in those cases I chose respect over comfort. I vastly prefer that I respect my man over his being easy to get along with.

I am shocked. I ended up with The Man. That's him to a T, except that he avoids confrontation. Not surprising, since in the one big area where we have conflict, he knows he's wrong. Plus he's all Man, and Man-types avoid emotional conflict (settling on a nickname for him was not difficult!) I've seen him address exterior conflict, and I have a lot of respect for him there.
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2783 When recycling is bad

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Among wild dogs, the family that preys together stays together.

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

I went to the recycle center today. They have a huge metal building there full of things people drop off, from small furniture, kitchen gear, toys and clothing, to books. Anyone can take anything they like.

When Jay was sick, the most amazing thing happened. All three years he was ill, some doctor's office dropped off copies of those huge pharmaceutical reference books, listing all medications, their purpose, dosages, interactions, and side effects, and results of all clinical trials of them. Several times I was able to head off problems using those books. What makes it so very amazing is that after Jay died, the books never appeared again.

I hadn't been in the building in a few years, so I decided to see what they had today. Not to get anything, exactly, but to see what they were accepting these days. I'm getting buried in stuff again, and thought I might load up some dross and drop it off one day soon.

After I arrived at the center I discovered I'd brought all the recyclable paper and cardboard, but had forgotten the two big bags of glass/plastic/metal. Phooey. I visited the building, and left with a stack of hardcover books (new-looking, with dust covers), including
A Reporter's Life - Walter Cronkite
Dating Dead Men - Harley Jane Kozak
Rising Sun - Michael Crichton
The King of Torts - John Grisham
The Age of Turbulence - Alan Greenspan

Clutterwise, this is not helpful. Now I remember why I seldom enter that building.
.

Friday, February 19, 2010

2782 Not at all politically correct

Friday, February 19, 2010

I distrust those people who know so well
what God wants them to do,
because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.
-- Susan B. Anthony --

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

I watched Tiger Woods' statement this morning. He did well, will come out of this ok. There was one thing that bugged me, though. He apologized to everyone in his family, his fans, his supporters, his team, a whole bunch of people. Fine.

But he left out one group he should apologize to - all the women he used and whose affections he toyed with, whose trust he destroyed. He lied to them. He told (some if not all) of them that he loved them and needed them. In most cases it was not a simple "we both know what this is, a one-night-stand". He schmoozed them into falling in love with him. He hurt those women, each of whom thought they were the only ones, and who thought they were helping a man who was staying in an unloving relationship only for the sake of the children.

A lot of people have no sympathy for those women, because "they knew he was married". But those people don't know how easy it is to fall in love with a charismatic man who goes after you and really turns it on. Regardless of how one feels about those women, he absolutely owes them a public apology, too. He lied to them and he used them.

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

The Palin family is now all upset at "Family Guy" for the episode where Chris is on a date with a girl with Down Syndrome. The girl was very nice and extremely proper. Taught Chris some date manners. The girl, after reminding Chris that he should ask her some questions about herself, said that "My dad's an accountant, and my mom's the former governor of Alaska." Clearly a reference to the Palins.

What bugs me is that Sarah Palin has said that it's "an insult." How is it an insult? Something is an insult when it offends. Something offends when it's not true, or if true, it's something you are sensitive about, or ashamed of.

So, Sarah, are you ashamed of your son?

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

Which leads to another not politically correct thought. The definition of retarded is "slowed down". Ex#2's brother had a rough birth, and although he doesn't have Down's, he was most definitely developmentally delayed. When he was 16, he thought and acted more like an 8-year-old. However, he continued to develop, just much more slowly than the rest of the world. For the first half of his life he was quite literally retarded in the dictionary sense of the word.

I understand objections to the use of "retarded" as an insult. In using it as an insult, you're sneering at the condition. That's not fair. But as a simple description of a true condition, simply a descriptive term, it's not inherently a bad word.

It bugs me that so many of the people who object so strenuously to the word "retarded" in any context will quite happily use "dumb" to mean stupid.

Hypocrisy. As bad as people who frown at fur coats while wearing goat leather shoes and belts.
.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

2781 Feelin' Blah

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Too many people don't know the difference between "probable" and "possible".
-- Me --

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

I hate winter.

Yesterday morning four different sources predicted 2-4" of snow. No big deal. It snowed gently all day, and by late afternoon, when we already had 5", they changed it to 6-10". Gee, thanks. I wish I could be paid so much for presenting bad guesses. I had scheduled "The Last Station" for my movie group, and canceled it when I heard that the roads weren't being plowed. Rescheduled for Friday.

I hadn't called Plow Guy, but he came anyway. I knew he'd arrived when the headlights swept across the den window and I heard the thumping and banging.

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

It seems like my life has become all about food. Three meals and three snacks all day, evenly spaced. Protein at every one. All low- or no-fat stuff. No fruit except berries until lunch. I eat slowly, so it seems like I'm eating constantly, or thinking about what to eat next. It also seems like I'm eating a lot more food, so I was afraid I'd be gaining weight, but the scale says I've actually lost a little bit. I have a few trips and hotel stays coming up, and I'm already fussing about how I can manage the regime on the road, or without a refrigerator, or on a long flight. Cheating or saying the heck with it is not an option.

When I go to the village this afternoon, I'm going to check on that Glucerna stuff, if I can find it. Maybe that would be good to fill the snack gaps. I wonder if I can smuggle it into Morocco....
.

Monday, February 15, 2010

2780 Exploding water

Monday, February 15, 2010

You can tell you've made God into your own image when He hates the same people you do.

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

I wanted a pot of tea this morning. I put a 16-oz glass measuring cup of water in the microwave oven, started it, and went to the den, where I forgot about it.

A few minutes later I went to the kitchen, and the water was hot but no longer boiling. So I set the microwave to 2 minutes and started it again, and watched it from the sink.

The water sat there. Nothing happened. No little bubbles. And then suddenly, all at once, ONE HUGE bubble sprang into existence in the bottom of the cup, shot to the top, and blew almost all of the water out of the cup with a bang that rocked the microwave on the counter.

Never saw that before. Bit of a shock.

Told ya I had hard water....
.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

2779 Ghosts of the past

Sunday, February 14, 2010

"Diplomacy is the art of saying 'Nice doggie' until you can find a rock."
-- Will Rogers --


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

There's a male friend who likes me, and would like a more intimate relationship with me. But I have absolutely no inclination in that direction at all. None whatsoever. I've been thinking about why I can't even consider him.

On the plus side, he's cute, cheerful, social, and wealthy, and a good dependable friend. He certainly has a lot to offer and would treat me like a princess. On the negative side, he's a bit loud, a right-winger, and shaped like a brick.

I used to think that it was those negatives that held me back. But really, they're nothing I couldn't work with. Life with him would be pleasant.

I figured it out a few weeks ago.

When I was 21 years old, my apartment building was set on fire by a young woman who liked to watch fire engines. The fire was mainly in the ground-floor stationery store's storage room, directly under my apartment. I was 8 months pregnant at the time (married to Ex#1, who was in the army, in Germany), suffered smoke inhalation problems, and lost the baby the day after the fire.

When the fire department and the landlord finally let me back into the building, I found I just couldn't live there any more. I'd managed to save my cat and myself, but I'd lost my baby and the pair of lovebirds, and everything I owned was seriously smoke damaged. I found I couldn't sleep there. So I moved.

One of the more successful businessmen in town owned several apartment buildings, as well as car dealerships, etc. It was his office that I hid out in after that woman tried to kill me. I went to him to see if he had anything available. He had just installed a mobile home behind one of his buildings, which was ideal. I'd feel safer if I had control over my home, and direct access to outside.

He stopped by often to see how I was doing. Pretty soon it was almost every day. I didn't know quite how to handle him. He was 20 years older than I. At 22, 42 is ancient! Then the gifts started. Roses. A full liter of Jean Nate (the popular scent in those hippie days). A gold bracelet. I had to tell him it wasn't appropriate, and that I couldn't let him visit as he had been doing, and I certainly couldn't accept gifts.

So then he started turning up late evenings, almost every evening. I wouldn't open the door to him, so he'd sit on the steps outside with a bottle of whiskey, and talk. We'd talk through the screen door. And talk and talk and talk. I knew he needed to talk and had no one else to talk with, so I couldn't turn him away.

I knew he lived in (what in that neighborhood would be) a mansion on the golf course. I knew he was 20 years old than I. I knew he had no children. I asked around and found out he was married, but no one had seen his wife in fifteen years. She was rumored to be either an invalid or agoraphobic, had a live-in maid/nurse. At any rate, she never left the house, rarely left her bedroom, and seldom left her bed. When I asked him, he said she stayed in her room when he was home, and he was not allowed in her room. He seldom saw her. I didn't ask and he didn't say what was wrong with her, but I got the impression he'd never left her because they were Catholic and he expected her to die --- and had been expecting her to die "any day now" for fifteen years.

When the cold of winter came, he gradually stopped coming by, and then Ex#2 came home, and I moved away.

About five years later I went back to visit friends. We were in a tavern when he bustled in, bought a bottle from the bartender, and bustled out. He didn't see me. My friends laughed at him after he was gone. They said "There's probably a woman waiting in his car. He's been catting around the past few years. Don't know where he finds these women, maybe York or Lancaster. Real floozies. He's a joke."

I felt very sorry for him.

Anyway, I just recently realized that the reason I can't drum up any interest in my current friend might be because he reminds me so strongly of my old landlord. The age difference isn't there, but they look a lot alike, both play golf, both financially comfortable, both square-built, both get maudlin when they drink, both uncomfortable with sex, both lack confidence in sexual matters, both in sexless long-term relationships, both relate to me in similar ways.

My old admirer would be 85 this year. I wonder if he's still alive. If he is, I'll bet his wife is, too.
.

2778 Implosion in Texas?

Sunday, February 14, 2010

“Politics is a pendulum whose swings between anarchy and tyranny
are fueled by perpetually rejuvenated illusions.”
-- Albert Einstein --

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

Note: The following is not an endorsement for anyone.

Debra Medina is a Republican (Tea Party) candidate for governor of Texas. In a telephone interview on Glenn Beck's radio show, Beck asked her if she was a "9/11 Truther", i.e., if she or any of her advisers believed that the US government was complicit in the fall of the towers:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8j2Ov6u9e38]
[http://politifi.com/news/A-Tea-Party-Candidate-Implodes-on-Becks-Show-185543.html]

Several social commentators and political bloggers whose opinions I usually respect (and a TV/radio host whose opinions I do not respect) have declared that, on the basis of this interview, she is a conspiracy nut and has blown her candidacy out of the water.

Huh? I don't understand.

That's not what she said. I'll agree she blathered a bit and didn't handle the question well, but what she actually said was that she doesn't have enough information to form an opinion either way. She said that there are good questions that have never been completely answered. Pressed on what any of her advisers believe, she said she didn't know and didn't care, and they weren't advising her on that anyway.

Now, I don't know anything about her, have no feelings either way about her, but I think there's something very wrong in concluding that she believes in a government 9/11 conspiracy.
Since when is an open mind suspicious?
Since when is it bad to say "I don't have an opinion because I don't have all the information"?
Since when is wanting the whole story before forming an opinion wrong?
Since when is it wrong to not simply accept what others tell you?
Is it a Republican requirement that one has to never ever ask questions about the motives of a Republican administration? (And the corollary - always question those of a Democratic administration.)

That attitude scares me. Don't think. Don't question. Follow the party line. Parrot the script. Above all, close your mind.
.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

2777 Confused about food

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The price is what you pay, the value is what you receive.
-- Salada Tea tag line --

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

In this recent post, http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/02/2772-cell-conspiracy.html, I linked to an article about research on the health dangers of cellular phones and towers. Now, there's this:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AI_chv7nCU]

I am horrified! Radar? Constantly bathing your body at close range?

Even when you aren't using your cell phone, if it's on it's periodically sending and receiving positional signals (using microwaves, which is essentially radar), but I suspect this is a much stronger signal. And it will not be broadcasting periodically. It will be constant. And anything that can go through a purse or pocket is going through to your hip bones.

I wonder if that guy would be willing to strap it to his infant daughter's forehead.

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

After Thursday's visit to the nutritionist, I spent all of yesterday doing research. It's all very confusing. I'm supposed to have
  • 6 servings of complex carbs
  • 4-6 servings of protein
  • 2-3 servings of fruit
  • 2 servings of dairy
  • 3 servings of vegetables
  • 3 servings of fats
scattered over three meals and three snacks every day. But the nutritionist and the Mayo Clinic, among others, seem to differ on which classification various foods fall into. The nutritionist considered nuts to be protein, but Mayo put them in the fats group. The nutritionist wants me to have a protein with every meal and snack, but if I am to have 5 servings of protein a day, and one "serving" of beef, pork, chicken is 1 ounce (that's ONE!), I don't see how.

I discovered that you can't decide you're hungry, walk out to the kitchen and open the refrigerator or cabinet, and think, "What shall I eat?" When you have to parcel out what classes can be eaten in what combination, you have to plan the whole day's meals and snacks ahead of time. The diabetic diet isn't about simply avoiding sugars. It's about combinations and balance.

I looked in the pantry and refrigerator, and there's a lot of stuff I can't have any more. I should just get rid of it. I asked Daughter, and she doesn't want any of it. She said to give it to a soup kitchen or something, but they won't accept it because it's all been opened and decanted. Ever since an attack of nasty flour moths and some kind of tiny black beetle that could drill through soft plastic and cardboard, I've kept everything in glass jars and big plastic jugs. So there's flour, sugar, brown sugar, pancake mix, Basmati rice, dirty rice, five different kinds of pasta, dessert mixes, Bisquick, creamy soup mixes, on and on, almost all out of their original containers. I doubt anyone else would (or frankly, should) trust them.

I guess the raccoons and turkeys will be having a feast.

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

Later - the chocolate will stay. A long time ago I mostly stopped eating regular candy chocolate and switched to unsweetened or semi-sweet baking chocolate to satisfy my occasional but powerful chocolate cravings, with the occasional Lindt truffle. It won't be cheating, really. The nutritionist said I could have one dessert a week.
.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

2776 No more baked potato?

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Dean Koontz, in The Face, paraphrased: When no one ever listens to you,
really listens, you can begin to lose the ability to tell whether or not you
are really making sense when you talk.

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

I had a one-hour session with a nutritionist today. If I am not diabetic now, I am headed straight for it, so I figured it would be a good idea.

She says I am remarkably healthy for my age, that I've got the right ideas, based on what and how I've been eating and the supplements I take (she got all excited when I mentioned I take lecithin, and strongly approved of my fish oil capsules), but there are a few things we have to tweak.

She says I eat !way! too much fruit. I have to cut back to no more than three servings a day, and cut out fruit juice entirely.

"Cut out fruit juice? Howcome fruit is ok but fruit juice isn't? I buy the stuff without added sweetner...." "Because how many oranges does it take to make one glass of orange juice? How many grapes in one glass of grape juice?" "Oh. Ok."

I have to eat six times a day, and I should have protein at every meal and snack to balance the carbs. Protein isn't just meat. Cottage cheese, yogurt, peanut butter, low-fat cheese, tree nuts, etc. count as protein.

The part that hurt was "nothing white". Ok, doing without white bread and corn isn't all that bad, but she says that sticky white Japanese rice I dearly love, and my beloved white potatoes, are definitely out. I can have brown rice (yuck) and I can have those little red potatoes with the thin skins (oh, ok, I like them) and purple potatoes (available at Adams' Fairacre Farms). She says once I try the purples, I won't mind giving up the whites. I'm not big on pasta, so I don't mind being limited on that, and whole wheat pasta in moderation is ok.

She said to avoid wrap sandwiches. One wrapper is the equivalent of umpteen slices of white bread.

I can have my sweet liquors at about the same rate I drink now (about three a month), and for one dinner a week I can have anything I want (in reasonable portions). I can also have my favorite dessert once a week.

She wants me to keep a food diary, and I have to show it to her in a month.

Sigh.

Most of my freezer will have to be tossed. Seems like everything has white rice or potatoes in it. Maybe I'll take it all down to Daughter.
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2775 Magnesium

Thursday, February 11, 2010

In The Face, by Dean Koontz, the hero wants to arrest a motivational speaker
on "charges of felony cliché and practicing philosophy without an idea."

Oooo, I love that!
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The Plow Guy did somehow manage to go up the bank to the left of the mailbox. I'll find out what damage he did to the lawn when the snow melts, I guess.

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

For many decades I've had either fibromyalgia or something similar. I have pain somewhere constantly. Not just little twinges. It's strong enough that I worry that I might someday have something serious going on and not know it.

Actually, that did happen once, when my gall bladder attacked me, and that's supposed to be bad pain, but I didn't worry about it until I started throwing up coffee grounds (that's partially digested blood for those who don't know). I drove myself to the ER in the middle of the night, and had emergency surgery two hours later.

On the plus side, I've delivered two babies completely without meds, and, "What pain? This is not pain. Hard work, yes. Pain, no."

Anyway, about four or five years ago I added magnesium to my daily supplements. I don't remember why I started taking it, but today it occurred to me that I've had very little random pain over the past several years. Sometimes I don't refill the weekly pill container, and I go without any supplements for a week or two until I get my tail in gear again, and --- surprise --- if I skip too long, the pain starts up again.

Hmmmm. If anyone out there has fibro or random pain, try magnesium and let me know what happens.
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2774 Driveway shock

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Mart Gross, biologist, on what behaviors get noted
or discounted : "Theory determines what you see."

That's so true. We tend to see what we expect to see,
and discount or explain away anything unexpected.
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All the weather sites and TV news I checked on Tuesday said we'd get 6 to 12 inches of snow yesterday (of course they didn't agree), so Tuesday afternoon I called Plow Guy and left a message that I'd need his services if we got 4 inches or more. At return from dinner Tuesday night, I left the car at the foot of the driveway so I could get out easily if we had a lot of snow. I figured I'd call Plow Guy and tell him to warn me before he arrived so I could move the car out of the driveway so he could get in.

The storm did shift southeast. The blizzard never arrived. When I went to bed last night, there were only 3 inches out there, so I didn't call Plow Guy.

Shock. I looked out the door this morning, and the driveway has been plowed.

How?!

At the foot, my driveway is one car wide. There's a steep uphill bank on the south side. On the north side, there's the mailbox on a small flat area, and then another downhill bank. This photo is from the ice storm last year, when I lost a bunch of trees. You can see the bank on the right and the mailbox on the left. Since the driveway is heading up, between the mailbox and the drive you can see a slope, and to the left of the mailbox the lawn rapidly gets steep enough to quickly get unmowable. My car is parked right there where the trees had fallen.
Now, how did Plow Guy, with his huge truck, get onto the driveway to plow it? Is my car still parked down there? (It was locked, so he didn't push it out of the way.) Is the mailbox still there? Did he chew up my lawn climbing the bank in the middle of the night?

And since we got only 3 inches total, why did he plow anyway? It's not insignificant. It's $55 per plowing.

I can't see the car from the house. It's below the brow of the hill.
I'll be going out after noon. Update and possible photos then.
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Wednesday, February 10, 2010

2773 Texting Haiti

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.
-- Isaac Asimov --

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

Remember when "they" announced that you could text "Haiti" to a particular phone number, and donate $10 to Haiti relief? Well, wait for it. When the month's cell phone bills hit, you'll hear screams all over the country. Spanking will be reinstituted.

A lot of kids were unaware that the $10 would be added to the phone bill. They seemed to think that the money would come from some anonymous corporate benefactor, so they texted the code hundreds of times, proud of their texting skills.

Steel yourselves, parents.

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

I had dinner last night with the Orange County Outdoor Singles Meetup group, at a new sushi restaurant on the Newburgh riverfront. I guess I shouldn't feel so bad about the no-shows with my groups - 12 people had RSVP'd yes, and only 7 showed up, and this is one of the more popular groups.

We were the only customers, the service and food was terrific (lots of extras), and we were there three hours, having fun.

The topic of tying knots with your tongue in cherry stems came up, and three of us claimed to be able to do it, so we asked the waiter for three stemmed maraschino cherries. The waiter brought a huge bowl full! We all had a chance to try at least three.

I left a little after ten, and the snow, which was supposed to begin after midnight, had already started, light flurries. When I woke this morning, I expected to find several inches, but it looks like about 2, and it's still just flurries. I guess the blizzard will be later today. I hope it'll swing south and east and miss us.

Well, I can hope....
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Tuesday, February 09, 2010

2772 Cell Conspiracy

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Consumotherapy - buying something because it makes you feel good.

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

Please pass this link on: http://www.gq.com/cars-gear/gear-and-gadgets/201002/warning-cell-phone-radiation?printable=true. It's a long but well-written article on the various studies on the risks of cell phone/WiFi radiation, and why in the US even talking about the topic will get you labeled as a conspiracy nut.
"...most worrisome, though, are the preliminary results of the multinational Interphone study sponsored by the International Agency for Research on Cancer, in Lyon, France. (Scientists from thirteen countries took part in the study, the United States conspicuously not among them.) Interphone researchers reported in 2008 that after a decade of cell-phone use, the chance of getting a brain tumor—specifically on the side of the head where you use the phone—goes up as much as 40 percent for adults. Interphone researchers in Israel have found that cell phones can cause tumors of the parotid gland (the salivary gland in the cheek), and an independent study in Sweden last year concluded that people who started using a cell phone before the age of 20 were five times as likely to develop a brain tumor. Another Interphone study reported a nearly 300 percent increased risk of acoustic neuroma, a tumor of the acoustic nerve. "
The article makes the case that research has been stymied, shut down, and suppressed in the US because it is not in the interests of the telecommunications industry, the military, or the government. Consider who funds such research. Or, more appropriately here, who doesn't.

Did you know that it is actually illegal to attempt to stop installation of a microwave tower on the grounds of health concern?

Read it. The stories of the researcher's experiences are fascinating and illuminating. And if you can't get cell phone service where you sleep, rejoice.
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2771 There's no title that fits barrettes, choking, and consumerism.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The north pole is in Lapland.

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

You know you've screwed up when the second thing people say to you in greeting is "What happened to your hair?"

I've had a breakage problem. The top layer of my hair doesn't seem to grow past the bottom of the back of my head. I'd thought it was from overuse of heat straightening back in early 2007, but that should have grown out long ago.

I finally figured out it's because of those stupid "French clip" barrettes - the ones with the bar that goes up between two metal strips to hold the hair tight. I hated them when they first appeared on the store shelves a few decades ago because I knew they'd break hair, but they're about all you can buy now. I have many beautiful ones, and now I'm going to get rid of them all. I'll use scrunchies and simple bar barrettes from now on.

Two weeks ago I cut my hair to just above my shoulders, so it will all grow out together.

Males, in particular, don't like it short. They prefer it long, even if it is ragged.

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

"The Doctors" today were demonstrating infant CPR. When Daughter was small, we weren't taught CPR for little ones. I was reminded of one day when I was going through the mail. Daughter was sitting on the floor next to me, and I was dropping the envelopes on the floor for her to play with.

Suddenly she began choking. One of the envelopes had a cellophane window, and she'd somehow managed to pull it loose and inhale it.

I couldn't see or reach it, it was pretty far down, so without thinking I turned her upside down, held her against my body by her legs, and pressed on her middle with the other hand, and ran for the front door. The next door neighbor was a retired pediatric nurse, so I ran to her door, holding Daughter upside down, punching her in the chest constantly, planning to ask the neighbor to call 911.

I rang the doorbell and kicked the door and shouted, squeezing Daughter upside down the whole time. Daughter managed to cough up the cellophane far enough that I could get to it, so I lifted her high by one ankle and reached into her mouth to scoop it out before she could inhale it again. Just as the woman opened the door, I got the cellophane out and Daughter started wailing.

The neighbor opened the door to me dangling a kicking squirming screaming child upside down by one ankle, in front of my face. The expression on Mrs. Tribble's face was priceless.

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

I've been watching "The Age of Stupid" online. (I'm about 2/3 through it, and just now discovered it has been removed for copyright violations - which I don't understand because the distributors will give you a free copy if you agree to show it to multiple people.) It's a British production about global warming, supposed to get the message across better than "An Inconvenient Truth". (The producers seem to have an intense dislike of Shell Oil in particular.) All the pre-2055 clips shown are actually real archival footage from various sources, not shot just for this movie.

Anyway, one statement impressed me. Through the history of the world, there have been various religions, political systems, economic systems, philosophies that have come, gone, spread, affected life in good or bad ways. But none has been so pervasive, spread so widely, and is so potentially dangerous as consumerism, the idea that we must have more, bigger, newer, better to be happy.

I agree. Consumerism is, in the end, a very bad deal for everyone.

Let's stop listening to advertising agencies. We inherently know what we want and need. We don't need them to tell us.

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

Along the same thought lines but from a different source is "proliferation". We usually hear the word in connection with "nuclear", but proliferation in general is very dangerous to the Earth, particularly proliferation of people. And consumerism.
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Monday, February 08, 2010

2770 SB Commercials

Monday, February 8, 2010

Most people can work with any insanity,
as long as it is consistent and predictable insanity.
-- Me --

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

You can watch all the Super Bowl commercials at http://www.youtube.com/adblitz. Click on the button on the upper right to watch them one after another with no pause.

I guess some must have repeated, because there are duplicates, but you can skip to the end of duplicates by moving the bar at the bottom of the viewing screen.

I'm a bit disappointed. Nothing came up to the standard of the old Budweiser frogs. Or the young Clydesdale-in-training.

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

I saw "Small Change" with the movie group last night. It was, as advertised, charming.
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Sunday, February 07, 2010

2769 Mumps, Auction, Wealth

Sunday, February 7, 2010

If two people always agree on everything, then one of them is superfluous.

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

Remember when I wondered if I might have mumps, back in mid-January? (Post 2748, at http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/01/2748.html.)

There's a mumps outbreak in Orange County, centered around Kiryas Joel, an Orthodox Jewish community. That's the general area where I go to a Mensa dinner the first week of every month. The timing's right. Damn. I bet it was mumps.

The article says that most of the kids who've come down with mumps were immunized, but that's not explained. Interesting. I'll bet a lot of adults who had mild cases weren't even counted. I know I didn't go to a doctor.

[http://vaccinenewsdaily.com/news/211359-mumps-outbreak-hits-ny-jewish-community]

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My singles' meetup group went to the auction last night. I had gone in Friday afternoon and reserved 8 seats for myself and the 7 people who'd RSVP'd. Three people showed up. Well, four if you count the guy who came without having RSVP'd (he did that at the dinner last month, too, showed up without advance notice).

I think the folks who did come enjoyed it, but I'm getting really annoyed at no-shows. It's not a rule, but I've noticed that many Meetup organizers kick people out after three no-shows. There's one woman who consistently says Yes to everything, and never shows up or cancels. She's supposed to come to the movie this evening, and if she doesn't, so help me, she's out. And no, it's not social anxiety - another member told me she's been to another group's games nights.

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Watching "Sunday Morning". Somebody just described the US as "the wealthiest and most generous country in the world". Sorry. Maybe most arrogant, but not most wealthy. There are several countries, especially in the middle east, that are absolutely more wealthy on a per-person basis. Several share the wealth with the citizens, so that no one has to work if they don't feel like it. They just hire foreign workers to do whatever needs doing.

Contrast that with here, where many families are struggling to feed and house themselves, where basic health care is not affordable for many, where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and the rich aren't interested in helping the poor. They use and prey on them. Cattle. Where's that famous generosity? It's not at home....

[http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/01/2752-perspectives.html]

Ach.
.