3792 What happened to Bill?

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

I saw this picture of Bill Gates the other day:

(From http://mashable.com/2013/11/04/bill-gates-interview-human-health/)

The photo confused me.  He's younger than I am, a lot younger, but he looks ten years older.  His skin looks like he's spent every waking moment out in the sun, without sunblock, and we know that's highly unlikely.  There's something wrong.

So I asked Google.

Nothing definitive or verifiable, nothing from reliable sites, just unverified rumors of Parkinson's Disease.  Whatever.  But I'm sure there's something going on with him.  Can it be just stress?

Wandering around what turned up for "Parkinson" with various other search arguments, I am surprised at how many people in public life have Parkinson's.

Ten years ago it was brain tumors.

Almost like ... a fashion, or something.  Strange.
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3791 Beware of strangling sheets

Monday, November 4, 2013

We are doomed.  Last night on "60 Minutes", Leslie Stahl (I think that's who is was) actually said in reference to the Guantanamo trials, "one obstacle after the next".  I was horrified.

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

If you ever see an ad for "1800 thread count microfiber sheet sets", usually mentioning Egyptian comfort in the text, DON'T BUY THEM!

I bought two sets maybe five years ago, when they first came out, at a booth at a county fair, for just about $49 a set. The product name was "1800 Thread Count Egyptian Comfort Sheet Sets".  The label said, "Enjoy the softness of Egyptian cotton", in large type. In smaller type it said "microfiber".  I stupidly thought that meant they were Egyptian cotton.  Egyptian cotton has exceptionally long fibers, so it is possible to spin it into finer threads, and I thought that's what the "microfiber" meant - very fine cotton thread - and that's how 1800 count was possible.  (Remember, this was before microfiber dusting cloths were so common.)

Not true.  Nowhere near cotton. They're a synthetic fiber. 

The damn sheets don't really fit any mattress.  Technically, they fit, the corners meet, but they don't stay taut.  The bottom sheet gets baggy in the middle of the bed because the sides won't stay tucked under the mattress, making folds and slippery patches, badly enough that when you move your legs, the sheets can, like, wrap your legs.  When you turn, the top sheet wants to tangle around you, too.  Unlike real cotton, they don't have enough body to behave.

The only good part is the pillow cases.  They can be good for your hair style, but they won't stay on the pillows.  You have to pin the opening closed or the pillow escapes.

The people selling this crap imply that you'd pay up to $300 for sheets of this quality in a major department store.  Bull poopy.  No legitimate store will sell them, and nobody anywhere sells them for more than $39, usually between $20 and $30.  Perhaps they figure nobody will sue as long as the price is ridiculously, embarrassingly, low.

See this online retailer:  http://www.egyptianbedsheetsets.com/bed-sheets.asp
Note that NOWHERE do they say anything about synthetic fibers.  These folks don't even mention the word "microfiber".  You are purposely led to expect cotton, even though they don't actually say what they're made of.

BEWARE!
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3790 Three kinds of sleeping men

Sunday, November 3, 2013

I was lying in bed this morning, snuggled under the blankets with Jasper curled against the back of my knees, and I was thinking about which side of the bed I choose to sleep on.  I start on the left**, often roll over to the right during the night, then back to the left by morning.  I guess it's because the table with the clock and my eyeglasses is on the left.  At the country house, I sleep on the right, and pretty much stay there.

In my experience with sleeping with men (and I have a lot more experience than you'd even guess), I've found they seem to fall into three groups.

The first two groups don't consistently prefer one side over another.  Their choice is based on the layout of the room, and in that they are consistent.

1.  Some insist on sleeping on the side of the bed nearest the door.  If you ask, that's what they say, that they want to be nearest the door. Even if you're sleeping in a strange place, like a hotel, they want to be nearest the door.  Which side they sleep on changes with the room.  I think of them as "The Protectors".  These men also tend to walk toward the outside on sidewalks, and insist on opening doors for ladies.

2.  Some want the side of the bed nearest the bathroom, and if you ask, that's what they say.  The bathroom.  I think of them as "The Piddlers".   These guys tend to be a little  bit self-absorbed and stingy.

3.  Then there's the guys who always sleep on one particular side.  If you ask, they say that they always sleep on the left (or right), with raised eyebrows, like "Duh?  Is there any other possibility?"  Mostly you don't have to ask.  They simply state it as fact, no discussion allowed.  I think it probably has to do with which side of their body they sleep on, and want to be facing out, or in, and know exactly where the edge is.  These are "The Rigids".  They like things a certain way, seldom break routine.

Of course this is just my experience, and some men are combinations or exceptions.  The Man, for example, always sleeps on "his side" of the bed and is pretty Rigid in his habits (well, very rigid) and often his thinking, but in all else he is a Protector.

Do you prefer a particular side?  Why?

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

**I'm never quite sure what people mean when they say "right" or "left" in reference to a bed.  Is it as when you lie on your back on the bed?  Or when you stand at the foot facing the head?

Seems to me that since the bed has a head and a foot, it would have a right hand and a left, so it would be like lying on the bed on your back.  But The Man uses the opposite, and we all know he's never wrong.
 
It doesn't  much matter what's correct, since the person speaking is not necessarily using it that way.

Later - We don't seem to have this problem with chairs.  "Put the table to the right of the chair" means to your right, not the chair's right, and most people understand that.  Oh, Good Grief!  Does that mean The Man is right again!?
.
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3789 Missing the target

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

There's this thing I'm seeing more and more of, where someone is keeping track of everything you look at online, and then selling that information to advertisers, who then focus on your "interests" for those ads over there on the margins.  Targeted advertising.

Hey, folks, you're doing it wrong!

Like Amazon keeps track of what I've looked at or bought, and then makes suggestions, "just for me".  Only what they show me are things I've already looked at or already bought!  That makes no sense.  I already have it, or I've already rejected it.

When I buy something on eBay, I get a message that "People who bought [what I just bought] also bought [pictures of of similar items]".  Well, a couple of problems there:
1. There are NO other people who bought what I just bought.  I bought the only one.  You lie!
2. If other people bought these other things, they're already sold.  What help is that to me?

If I search for toy ovens, for days afterward I am inundated with ads for toy ovens.  Hey, I just bought one!

I have to draw on my eyebrows, and they frequently disappear within an hour, so the other day I searched for and bought a blond eyebrow pencil (actually a liquid with a fine brush to draw "hairs" with) that is guaranteed to last all day.  I bought it from a particular beauty supply outlet.  Now my margins are filled with ads from that outlet, not ads for any of their other products, but ads for the very same pencil I already bought.  Duh?

Targeted advertising is crap.  It's been poorly implemented by people who don't have enough brains to understand that people don't want to look at things they've already looked at.  It's being signed up for and paid for by retailers who are no smarter.

Maybe people might be interested in things related to things they've looked at? 

Like after I had looked at covers for the a/c units, maybe instead of throwing more a/c covers at me, you should suggest patio furniture or grill covers.  After I bought one John Smith book, instead of suggesting I buy that book again, maybe you could suggest other books by the same author, or a different author in the same genre.  After I bought the toy oven, maybe you could suggest other toys in the same age range.

I am especially disturbed by Gmail's scanning my emails for keywords.  I mentioned to a friend recently that I had gotten chubby since last we met (Yeah, I've gone from the size 6 and S I wore three years ago to 10 and 12 and M, and at my height, that's really chubby), just that one line, and suddenly my sidebar on Gmail is full of ads for shops specializing in foundations and those sizes with the Xs in them (which I can't wear no matter how big I get because the proportions are off for my height, the shoulder seams reach to my elbows).

One of these days I'd love to write an email full of exciting keywords just to see what happens - but I don't want to draw the attention of the NSA.
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3788 I don't get some people's taste

Sunday, October 27, 2013

There's a bunch of women discussing the attractiveness of a Scotsman on "Cute Overload", here.

As one woman said, he's "a little long in the tooth, and portly to boot, but a full head of hair, nice smile, lovely accent", but still a candidate for the "Men of" calendar.

Yeah, I wouldn't mind meeting him.  He has potential.  And my taste in men runs to dark hair and eyes.

Then the commenters suggest who he reminds them of.  One woman suggested Mr. Bates from “Downton Abby”, and others agreed. Many women have found Mr. Bates attractive, including me.  (He's the one who went to jail on bogus charges.  I'm unsure how much of Mr. Bates' attractiveness has to do with his appearance, and how much is the character's personality and our sympathy for his situation.)

Anyway, a few other women suggested who he looks like, and here's where I lost the connection. 

Um, Benny Hill?
Johnathan Winters?
Uh, yeah, they all have squarish faces, and hair, and the proper number of eyes and noses, but the level of attractiveness is way off.  Not even close!  In fact, I have to wonder about any woman who finds either of those two attractive.

Hmmmmm.

I guess it's good that different women (and men) see and are attracted to different things.  Otherwise a lot of us would never find a mate.
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3787 My widgets

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Today I learned how to take a screenshot.  Windows 8 makes it really easy.  There's my new widgets over there on the right.

It's 52 and raining here, and 47 and cloudy at the other house.

I don't need or want the bottom half of the calendar, with the big 23, but I haven't figured out yet how to get rid of it.

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

Later - Phooey.  It's overlaying text on the right Blogger screen, so it's hard to read.  Any smaller, and it would still be hard to read, but for a different reason.  Tough.  If you click on the screenshot, it should get clearer....
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3786 Widget wacky

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

On my old Vista, I had "widgets" on the sidebar.  A nice big analog clock, a calendar showing the whole month, gauges showing CPU and storage utilization, and two weather doohickies showing the temperature and conditions for both houses.

I loved them.  Glanced at them all the time.

Microsoft got rid of them in Windows 8, ostensibly because they presented a security threat, but the forum consensus is that Microsoft wanted people to use those stupid cluttering apps.  The ones you can't see when you're on the desktop.

So, I searched, and found several free widget programs.  Again, the consensus is that the best and safest is from http://8gadgetpack.net/.

Installation was quick and easy.  I got everything I needed, including two small weather gadgets, the ones that show temperature and atmospheric conditions.

Then I clicked on "options" to set the weather gadgets to my locales.  The one for the city house was easy.

The country house was weird.

I asked it to search for Red Hook, NY, 12571 (that's a village upstate, near Rhinebeck, not the old dock area of Brooklyn, and what I had been using on Vista as being close to the country house).

It told me it couldn't find a weather station for Red Hook, but offered me Slingerlands as the closest.  Slingerlands is way the heck up by Albany.  Duh?  Not even close!

So I shrugged and asked for Milan, NY, which is close and is in the same zip code as Red Hook, and has an airport, so I know there's a weather station there.

It said it couldn't find Milan, but offered me Red Hook as the closest.  Duh?

I don't understand.

But at any rate, my widgets are all set up, and I'm happy.
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3785 Notice for all pet owners

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

If you have a dog or cat, and give them jerky treats, please read this:

http://news.yahoo.com/fda-seeks-pet-owner-help-dangerous-jerky-treats-120212167--politics.html

Mysterious illnesses and deaths.  FDA is gathering info in an effort to identify the problem.
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3784 Dago

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Well, this is the first post in years without the leading green quote.  I still haven't solved the problem of how to get to my ".wps" documents.  No big deal.  Eventually I will.

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

There's a food truck in the Albany/Schenectady area named "The Wandering Dago".  New York State had no problem approving the business name, but now someone in the government has decided the name is offensive, and the truck has been banned from places under state control, like the Empire State Plaza in Albany and the Saratoga race track.

The truck owners and operators happen to be Italian.  They like the name. They not only like it, they're proud of it, and by serving great food, they feel they are saying exactly that. They can call themselves Dagos if they want, right?  They've gone to court, claiming their first amendment rights have been abridged by the state.

I've been idly following the story for a while.  There's no resolution yet, but it doesn't look good for the wandering Dagos.  The judge's name is D'Agostino.  Catch the first four letters.

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

This brings up something that generally bugs me - the tendency to much wider interpretation of the Constitution than the framers ever intended. 

The first amendment was meant to permit citizens to criticize the government without reprisal.  Period.

It was not intended to allow anyone to say, write, wear, do, display any insulting, profane, irreverent, impious, disrespectful, sacrilegious, obscene, blasphemous, indecent, foul, vulgar, crude, filthy, dirty, smutty, coarse, rude, offensive, indecorous, just plain nasty thing to anyone else, anywhere, any time. Which is how most people want to interpret it. 

Neither is it the function of government to protect people from being insulted or offended.

So I don't think the state has the right to ban the Wandering Dago truck from tax-supported public areas just because some people are offended.  I also don't think the owners have a right to the name guaranteed by the first amendment.  The first amendment has nothing to do with it. 

No, I don't know what the solution is.

The whole issue is annoying.

Now, if this were Europe....
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3783 Snubbed by Google

Saturday, October 19, 2013

" ... the use of our intelligence quite properly gives us pleasure. In this respect the brain is like a muscle. When we think well, we feel good. Understanding is a kind of ecstasy."

--Carl Sagan:--

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

When you have some wait-time, visit this site:  http://9-eyes.com/.  The name comes from the fact that Google's street camera has nine "eyes".   Jon Rafman has collected images from Google map street views, from all over the world.  Some are beautiful, some are interesting or unusual, some are disturbing.  [There's one I can't look at.  It's the fifteenth photo, the one right after the one with three kids carrying speakers past a slummy apartment building.  You might want to unfocus your eyes and skim quickly past the 15th.  I wish I could eliminate that one.]

Whoever collected the views seems to like "working girls".  There's a lot of police action, a few accidents (one seems to be fatal), some tourist sights, some shots that appear to have been taken in a large aquarium, and lots of exotic scenery.

This site, http://mashable.com/2013/10/18/google-street-view-invasive-species/, about using Google street view to track  invasive species, mentions that there are views of Antarctica, the Galapagos, the Amazon, Mount Everest's base camp and the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, including links.

Now, here's my problem.  If you go to those links, you see one-lane roads through forest, dirt roads through prairies,  barely discernable tracks through deserts, streets in obviously dangerous parts of cities, streets covered, literally, in garbage.  Streets where there's nothing, for miles and miles.  Even places where there are no roads at all.

Do you see my street?

NO!

One day a few weeks ago I was at the stop sign at the end of my street when the Google camera car went past, right in front of me on the cross street.  Did it go down my street?

NO!

I  am insulted.
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3782 Catchy little tune

Friday, October 18, 2013

The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words.

If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use them.

--Philip K. Dick--

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

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMoK0focAFE&

 From an NPR article:

In November 1972, Italian pop star Adriano Celentano released a song that hit No. 1 in his home country, despite the fact that it wasn't performed in Italian.

It also wasn't performed in English.

In fact, it wasn't performed in any language at all.

The song, called "Prisencolinensinainciusol," was written to mimic the way English sounds to non-English speakers.

From "Now I Know" (a great place to visit, by the way): [A better link for the same place: http://nowiknow.com/archives/]

Despite the fact that the words aren't actual words, the song was incredibly popular in Italy and in other parts of Europe, cracking the top 10 on the Italian, Belgian, French, and Dutch charts (peaking at #1 overall in Italy) and hitting number 46 in Germany. Perhaps the listeners didn't know that the words were made up. Perhaps they didn't care. The song was catchy, regardless, and as any American non-Korean speaker can testify (think Gangnam Style), sometimes the "words" don't matter all that much.

...

Bonus fact: In 1963, a group named the Kingsmen covered the song "Louie Louie," originally recorded by Richard Berry eight years prior. The Kingsmen's version is a classic and you've almost certainly heard it (but if not, here you go) and likely can sing the whole thing -- kind of. You probably have no idea what the actual words are because they're a garbled mess which is impossible to understand. But that didn't stop an angry parent from writing to then-U.S. Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy and insisting that the lyrics were obscene. For some reason, this lead to an FBI investigation (!) which concluded, no, the lyrics are just unintelligible. The FBI was right, but they missed something. At about 0:53 into the song, Lynn Easton, the band's drummer, dropped a drumstick and yelled out the f-word. It's audible (but not obvious) in the recording (which if you didn't click to listen to before, you probably will now).

Wikipedia puts it a bit more humorously:  " In June 1965, the FBI laboratory obtained a copy of the Kingsmen recording and, after four months of investigation, concluded that the recording could not be interpreted, that it was "unintelligible at any speed".

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

Back in maybe the late 60s or early 70s there was a Japanese song that was very popular, all in Japanese, and no one knew what it was about.  I heard it on the radio constantly, and I can hum the tune now, but I never learned the name.  It was one of my favorite songs ever, and I may never find it again.

Anyone know what it might be?

Later - The Queen  nailed it in the comments! I had the years wrong, but she still got it.  It's "Sukiyaki", by Kyu Sakamoto, on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zpOc9n7dlI.  Same version with Japanese and English subtitles: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C35DrtPlUbc.  I was almost afraid to see the translation, afraid the real words would spoil the song, but they didn't.  The English is pretty, too.  Sad, but pretty.

(Note that there are a few English covers of the song, but they changed the lyrics entirely.  Same tune, but NOT THE SAME SONG AT ALL!)
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3781 Getting up to speed.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Naturally, the common people don't want war, but after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag people along whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.

--Hermann Goering--

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

Later last night I installed GMarks on the new laptop, and all my 2,375,984+ bookmarks were there!   But, in looking for the code to download, I came across some disturbing forum discussions - it seems that the guy who wrote it hasn't been maintaining it, and Google has changed some interfaces, and although GMarks SAYS it bookmarked a site, and the bookmark is there when you look, the next time you start up it may or may not be there anymore.  Uh oh.

In the meantime I figured out how to make folders on the Firefox bookmark toolbar, and put some of the most important there, so maybe I'll just slowly transition to that.

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

I also discovered that my favorite online shopping site - the rather expensive boutique with a great online outlet, with nice sales, who gives me discounts and free shipping because I'm a favored shopper, and most importantly whose sizing runs pretty much the same across all items - yeah, that place - the place where with outlet, discounts, sales, and specials I have actually received a box containing seven items with original tags totaling over $400.00, for a total cost to me of $5, which led me to ask how the heck they are staying in business - well, they may not stay in business.  They are in big trouble.

Actually, I'm not surprised.  Not because of the deals, but because the quality of their stuff has fallen badly over the past three years, but the catalog list prices haven't.  They still have boutique prices on chintzy stuff.  It's getting harder to find the quality pieces, so customers are dropping out.  I've been frequently disappointed lately, but I pay so little it doesn't bother me if half the lot is crap.

But - everything always fits, and I am hard to fit.  I am really going to miss them if they disappear.

(Fifteen or twenty years ago, Speigel was like that.  Really nice stuff that pretty much always stayed true to size.  But then it all turned to crap.)

I'm still fussing over my documents.  Commenters "Z" and "Rocky" say there are some Word  knockoffs available, but I haven't looked yet.  Those green quotes at the top of my blog posts are randomly generated from a Works document.  I have something like three more post drafts set up, and then I won't be able to get to the quotes for a while, I guess. 

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

I'm rather proud of my calmness with this system transition.  I still hate the "apps", but it's easy to get to a desktop interface, and that's familiar.  I haven't freaked out yet, not like this person:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GabihXDzkHY

It's true.  She really did take a hammer to a brand new $1300 MacBookPro, right out of the box, because she couldn't get it to immediately play a Lady Gaga video.  The guy she's talking to, who isn't responding, is her husband of three weeks, and I suspect she's really wanting to bash him, not the laptop. Notice how she starts with threatening little taps.

 (There's a video on her channel from just before this one, where you do hear him respond, and a video after this on Lamarr Wilson's channel (to which I am subscribed, that's how I found it all).  Lamarr had seen this video, and rushed over to her place to find out if it was true.  She seemed to think Lamarr could get it to work after she'd bashed it all to Hell.  Lamarr was pissed, because he's been saving for a MacBookPro for ages and isn't there yet.  Lamarr's involvement convinces me that it is for real.)

Yup.  Proud of my restraint.  I would NEVER wear green lipstick, either.
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3780 Stumbling, but still moving.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

"[T]he West won the world not by the superiority of its ideas or values or religion

but rather by its superiority in applying organized violence. Westerners often

forget this fact, non-Westerners never do."

--Samuel Huntingdon--

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

Played with the new laptop some more today.

I installed IrfanView, so now I can find, edit, and play with all my photos.

I installed WOT (Web of Trust), so now I know at a glance whether a website is considered safe or not.

I installed Flash, so now I can watch YouTube videos.

I verified that the Microsoft virus detector is on and automatically updating.

I bookmarked my most frequently used sites on the tool bar.

So far, so good.

But I have a few major problems:

I can't seem to use the regular Firefox bookmarks list.  I found it, but it's not bookmarking anything but the ones for which I used drag-and-drop to put on the tool bar.  "Bookmark this page" doesn't seem to do anything.  After Google killed their bookmark support a few years ago, I moved to GMarks, and that was working fine for me on the old system.  I downloaded GMarks, and the instructions said to open the installation thingy under Firefox, but I can't figure out how to do that.  This one I may be able to figure out if I play with it some more.

The one that freaks me out totally:
I have a few hundred documents on the hard disk, and almost all of them are Microsoft Works format (.wps and .wdb).  I don't have Microsoft Works on the new machine, and nothing else will open those files!  Let alone edit them.  I really really really don't want to have to buy Microsoft Word (although I guess I'm going to have to), and I absolutely don't want the whole Office package.

I wandered around a bit, and it gets pretty confusing.  One Microsoft site says $109.99 for Word (is that a one-time payment?), and another says $99.99/year for the full suite (home edition)(Holy Crap!  Do people really pay that?).  Word is supposed to be able to open and edit Works files, and there are several free converters out there (although if Word can read Works, why would you need a converter from Works to Word anyway?).  So I guess I'm going to have to devote some time tomorrow to figuring that all out.

Suggestions or explanations of packages gratefully accepted.   Are there any other word processors out there besides what Microsoft has?

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

In other business, two days ago my cold seemed to be gone.  Over.  Done.  I had one day of bliss, and then it came back, exactly the same way it had started the first time through.  I am unhappy.)
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3779 Turkey

Monday, October 14, 2013

Sometimes when you look in his eyes you get the feeling that someone else is driving.

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

Dear Teacher, Decorator, Baker, Designer, and anyone else planning to color a turkey:

A turkey cock is not a peacock!

A wild turkey does not have rainbow tail feathers.  No yellow, red, orange, green, purple. 

A wild turkey is a mix of black, gray, brown, dark tan, white, and russet.  The head is white or light grey with a little light blue around the eyes and throat, and the male will have a bright red wattle.  In sunlight, the feathers have some iridescence, so you might see a shimmering surface wash of gold, copper, golden green or blue.  The tail is some shade of brown, with stripes of black and white at the end of the feathers.

The tail is NOT a dime store fake native american headdress, so cut that out!

Ok, I can understand if you have small children coloring a turkey.  A palette restricted to browns is pretty boring.  Let them get creative.  Heck, they think pink horses are perfection, and that's fine.  But when an adult is coloring a turkey for adults, a multi-colored tail simply displays ignorance, and is insulting to your audience, not to mention to the bird.

A wild turkey is amazingly beautiful on its own.  It doesn't need enhancement.

He:  "Come wis me to ze Casbah."
She: "You do realize all that fluff doesn't really make you bigger, right?"

[Photo borrowed from the website for the Wild Birds Unlimited nature shop in East Lansing, Michigan, http://lansingwbu.blogspot.com/2012/11/bird-of-week-wild-turkey.html.]
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3778 Kicking and screaming into the new era

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Homophobia: The fear that gay men will treat you the way you treat women.

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

In the spring of 2007, I bought my first laptop, and went from a heavily modified (by Jay) Windows 98(?) on a desk PC to Vista on a Dell laptop.  Big jump!  The transition was a bit scary at first, but at least I didn't hate it.

Last July I bought a Toshiba "Satellite" laptop.  Woot had a great deal.  It has more than 10 times the everything than my old one, and it's running Windows 8.

Yesterday Hercules finally got around to helping me with it.  He hooked up the old hard drive as an external drive on the new machine, and copied all my photos, documents, and music from the old to the new.  We couldn't get the cookies or bookmarks, though, because Hercules wasn't sure they'd be compatible, or something, I don't know.

Today I played with the new.  I did convince it to use the house WiFi, I set the date and time, installed and synched Firefox and logged on to a few of my favorite sites, got their quick-access icons on the Firefox toolbar and the passwords stored, and that was about it.

I haven't figured out yet how to get to my photos or documents.  There's one of those silly app tiles for photos, and it automatically scrolls through and displays, on the tile itself, random photos from my photo folders, including the naked ones!, none of which happened to show up while Hercules was doing his thing, thank goodness.  I clicked on that tile, and all it does is throw up a full screen cycling mosaic of my photos (including the naked ones!).  It doesn't take me to the photo files, so that seems pretty useless.

So far I hate Windows 8.   It hides everything in the most obscure places, and shoves those stupid useless apps tiles at you.  With Vista, it was easy to find everything from the Start button.  I didn't even have to remember what the name of the program is that I use to edit documents, it was right there, and the notepad and calculator were right up front. 

Now?  Who knows?  I don't even know where to start looking, or how.  I bought a book.  We'll see how that goes.  So far it's been less than helpful on 9 of 10 things I looked up.

Once I'm fully up to speed on the new machine, the old will go to the country house, so I don't have to carry one back and forth.

(Yes, this is being written on the old laptop.  The new keyboard is just different enough that I keep hitting "Alt" instead of "Space", and "Alt" makes very strange things happen, and I am too tired to swear at it right now.)
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3777 Hacks

Saturday, October 12, 2013

"I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals."

--Sir Winston Churchill--

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

Some of these "life hacks" are new to me, but very useful.  Others are old, but I had forgotten them.  Check them out:
http://sarcasticcharm.com/99-life-hacks-that-could-make-your-life-easier

3776 More amusement

Saturday, October 12, 2013

I have a theory that you can make any sentence seem profound

by writing the name of a dead philosopher at the end of it.

--Plato--

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Daughter told two-and-a half year old Nugget that they were going to the playground.
Nugget asked if she could take her little pull toy dog along.
Daughter said yes.
Then Daughter heard Nugget telling the doggie what was going to happen.
It went something like this:

First we have to go piddle.
Then we put our socks and shoes on.
Then we go get in the car.
Then we drive to the playground.
Then we go on the swings and the slides and the climby things.
Then we get in the car and drive home.
Then we put the bandaids on.
.

3775 I am amused

Saturday, October 12, 2013

No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.

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

So, truckers are slowing down traffic on the Washington beltway this weekend, starting yesterday, to protest - something - I'm not clear on what, but that's ok because I'm not sure they are, either.  The slowdown doesn't bother me, except that I wonder about the wisdom of pissing off people who might otherwise support you in your protest.

Anyway, I cracked up when I read that the truckers themselves were slowed down by the beltway's normal congestion.  They got caught in a traffic jam!

Snork.....

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

There weren't as many trucks on the belt yesterday as expected, kind of disappointing. 

I'm not surprised because I wondered where those trucks would come from.  Trucking companies are unlikely to approve of their drivers wasting fuel and rubber going 'round and 'round in circles in a symbolic exercise, and independent truckers are unlikely to be able to afford it (if their gas-price protests are to be believed).

Yesterday only "a few dozen" showed up.  That belt is long.  A few dozen trucks is normal.  Friday was a normal workday, so most trucks were elsewhere, busy hauling.  I'll be interested to see how it goes today.

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

I lived in that area in the late '70s.  I drove on the beltway a lot, and it was never clogged, unless there was an accident  In fact, I was often dismayed at how fast people were driving.  It frightened me.

I hear that these days the beltway is essentially a parking lot.

I wonder how people, commuters, cope with that, because there really isn't any other way to get anywhere.  Yeah, you can drive through the residential areas inside the belt, and through the city, but there are traffic lights or stop signs every three feet (feels that way, anyway), so that's not practical.  I've been hearing from old acquaintances that a 20 mile commute can turn into a 2 hour drive.

An obvious solution would be to stagger office start times, so everyone isn't on the road at the same time, but nobody wants to cooperate with that because everybody has to interface with everyone else.  I guess work-at-home/telecommute is an option, but that turns into either watch TV all day, or work 24 hours a day.

There is a subway system, they were just opening that back when I lived there, but as usual in the US there is insufficient parking at the stations, and a lack of bus transport from residential areas to the stations.  Whoever set it up seemed to assume that every worker had a spouse who could drive them to the station.

Now if this were Europe....
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3774 Wrenches and plans and all that

Friday, October 11, 2013

"To have a right to do a thing is not at all the same as to be right in doing it." 

--G. K. Chesterton--

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

My back was out or in some stage of delicate for a month.  By the end of last week it felt pretty good, so I figured I'd make it up to the country house this week.

Not to be.

Last Friday, the Nugget was miserable and snobbery.  By Sunday evening I was sneezing, and by Monday I was miserable and snobbery.  'Long about Tuesday evening the miseries started to descend into my chest.  Last night, Thursday, at about 9 pm, a good six hours since I'd taken some (every four hours) Robitussin, I felt really good and thought "Wow, it's over!".  By 11 pm I was crawling to the cabinet for more Robitussin.

Sigh.

Will I ever again see that house?

Nugget is still suffering.  Although her nose is now dry, her voice sounds like a cartoon witch, so I guess the miseries are in her throat and chest, too.  She still laughs and plays, but at any moment the least tiny thing will send her sobbing into her mommy's lap.  I told Daughter if she aches all over even 1/3 as bad as I do, take pity on her.

At least I have Robitussin.
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3773 OMG! I am ... SO! ... DENSE!

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Where would Christianity be if Jesus got eight to fifteen years with time off for good behavior?

--New York State Senator James Donovan, speaking in support of capital punishment--

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

Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
A: To get to the other side.

I've been hearing that for nigh onto seventy decades,  and  today I discovered I never got it!

I always thought it was one of those "duh" things.  Like, "of course to get to the other side of the road, why does anyone cross the road, if you were expecting any different reason for crossing the road you were overthinking it, duh.  Gotcha."

Note I always mentally added the "of the road".  Which, you will note, is not in the original.  Is never in the original.  Which sort of indicates to me that everyone else in the world got it.  Except me.

It never occurred to me that it was ... a pun?  A double entendre? 

It never occurred to me that a chicken who attempts to cross a road is suicidal, and that "other" and "side" can be capitalized.

I know I tend to be much too literal, but for almost seventy years of chickens?

Am I alone here?  When did you "get it"?

[If you ever tell this joke to small children, for their sakes, please explain it to them.  Don't let them live in ignorance.]
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3772 Dieting Disappointment

Saturday, October 5, 2013

"A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her." 

--Oscar Wilde--

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

I haven't had Bisquick Impossible Cheeseburger Pie, one of my favorite things, in ages, and suddenly had a hunger for it.  So a few days ago I made it.

I was SO disappointed.  It didn't have the right texture or taste.  Not at all what my mouth remembered and expected.

I used 90% fat free hamburger, Lite Bisquick, 1% milk, and 75% fat free Cabot Cheddar.

No wonder it was blah.  The only things that were "real" were the onions, eggs, and tomato.  They tasted fine.  It was everything wrapped around them that was yuck.

Sigh.  It's sad when you get old and fat and have to make choices like that.
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3771 Freakin' out here. Part Three.

Friday, October 4, 2013

All mushrooms are edible.  Some only once per person.

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

I followed the online news stories coming out of Washington yesterday.  I tore out more of my hair.

The first reports quoted police saying that the woman attempted to "break through a gate" at the White House, and then rammed a barricade.  I guess there were too many witnesses, and people who pointed out that there was no damage to the front of her car, because that changed to "attempted to go through" a gate (which was open).  "Ramming a barricade" became "tried to go around" one of those fence section dohickies like are used for crowd control that a secret service agent was pulling in front of her car in an attempt to divert her.  She did hit the agent (who ran in front of her car), who was injured when he slid to the ground.

She then took off at high speed, acquiring a screaming police tail.

They managed to stop her (or she just stopped, not sure) and blocked her in with a police cruiser behind her.  Now, initial reports said she shot at the police at that point.  However, I guess there were too many witnesses who pointed out that her windows were closed and unbroken, so much later that version changed.  She looked out her window and saw a cop in that classic firing range position, with a gun 18 inches from her and pointed at her head.  (Having read my immediately previous blog post, and being herself of the "wrong" race, she knew what was coming, so...) She backed into the blocking police car, wiggled out, and took off again.

Reporters were careful to point out that she then headed to the capitol building and senate offices.  (The video actually shows her literally going around in circles.)  If you look at any map of DC, the capitol building is straight up the widest road from the White House, so it doesn't take any planning to get there.

The police fired on the car, and then stopped her again.  Interestingly, there  is no video of that stop.  Initial reports said she got out of the car and opened fire on the officers, so they shot her dead.  Barrump-bump.

Later reports noted that she was unarmed.

This morning's reports say she never even got out of the car.  They shot her while she was sitting in the car.  Judge, jury, executioner?

Police claim they didn't know there was an infant in the car during all that shooting.  I call B.S.  On that first stop, you KNOW someone checked the back seat to make sure there weren't three more people hiding back there.  That's SOP.  Modern infant car seats are huge and stand out from the back seat.  Plus, "news" reports noted a baby in the back even before that final stop.

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

Now, all that speculation reported as fact was disturbing enough.  Everybody was so anxious to get the info out first that they didn't care if it was accurate or not.

What REALLY got to me was the comments on the articles from (here we go again, can you tell I'm furious?) assholes. 

Almost all of the commenters, better than 98%, made it into a political act, blaming anger at the government shutdown.  Half blamed Congress (about evenly divided between blaming Republicans for their assholery, and Democrats for their refusal to compromise capitulate).  The other half pointed out that she headed for the White House first, so obviously Obama was to blame.

What got me was that EVERYONE was absolutely sure that THEY KNEW what her motive and intent was.  With NO facts, NO knowlege of her, they were SURE they knew exactly what was going on in her head.

You have no idea how much that infuriates me!

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

So, early evening, Daughter and Nugget visited, and I told Daughter what was going on, and how angry all this speculation knowing and laying blame made me.

She thinks like me.  She and I immediately came up with a story (one of a hundred possibilities) that could explain what was really going on with the woman.  It is every bit as valid as all those other theories, so why did no one consider something like this? 

By the way, this morning's reports, after interviews with family and friends, reveal that she's apolitical, and after her daughter's birth in August of 2012, she suffered such severe postpartum depression that she had been hospitalized.  "She's still not right."  It may be that the baby fell asleep in the car, and she just kept driving, to get a few hours of that blessed peace.

Our possible story:

She was driving from Connecticut to Virginia for whatever reason.  She got off the beltway at the wrong exit, and instead of going into Virginia, she found herself at the Mall.   Traffic is the usual mess, and she's not a confident city driver, and to make matters worse, she needs a restroom so bad her eyeballs literally hurt (no restrooms on the beltway).  Oh, well, the monuments all have restrooms in their basements, so maybe that's ok.

But none of the monuments are open.  The parking lots are blocked.  This isn't a civilized European country with public, self-cleaning bathrooms on the sidewalks.  To make matters worse, the baby woke up and is screaming bloody murder.  It all gets to her and she goes slightly nuts. If you are a mother, you know that craziness.

Then she spots the White House, and an open gate.  Maybe they're open.  Maybe they have tourist restrooms.

She turns in, and is thwarted by some guy who wants to close the gate.  NO WAY!  No way you are closing NOW, when I need it so desperately!  Wait until I'm done!  She tries to go around the barricade and bumps the guy pushing it, knocking him to the ground.  Oh, f**k.  I don't need this.  Besides, I just pissed all over the car seat, so f**k you all, it's all your fault, I'm outta here.

She notices she now has a screaming police escort. Is that for me?!  All she wants to do is get away.  Out of here.  Out of the nightmare.  Make it all go away.  Angry and slightly crazed by her ruined upholstery, wet crotch, and screaming baby, down to both physical and mental tunnel vision, she hits the gas.

The police manage to pull her over.  She looks to the driver side window, expecting to find an angry cop that she has grovel to, explain things to, maybe she'll get a ticket, oh crap, I really don't need this.

Instead, she's staring straight into the barrel of a gun.  She's heard the stories.  Scared witless, she takes off.  Get away from here!  Find someplace safe!  Now they're shooting at me!  Oh my god, I knew that would happen!  Get away, away, away!

Finally she stops.  Maybe I can explain this.  Maybe they'll give me some dry underpants.  Maybe the baby will stop that infernal screaming.  I can't think when she's screaming...

Bang.  Dead. 
.

3770 Freakin' out here. Part Two.

Friday, October 4, 2013

"Sometimes I think we're alone. Sometimes I think we're not. In either case, the thought is staggering."

--R. Buckminster Fuller--

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

There was the very old, bedridden guy, maybe a year ago, whose daughter thought he was dying and wanted him to go to the hospital, so she called an ambulance.  But the old guy didn't want to go, and got angry at the EMTs.  EMTs are not allowed to get physical, so they called the police for assistance.  The police arrived.  The old guy still refused to be taken from his bed, and swore at the police and waved his feeble arms around, so they shot him dead.

There was the man who answered pounding at his door to find the police demanding to be let in.  They were looking for some guy, who actually lived two houses up or something.  Wrong address.  The police demanded to come in to search anyway.  The man exercised his right to refuse them entry.  He stood in the doorway with one hand on the door frame, the other on the door, his foot braced against the door preventing it from opening, so they shot him dead.

There was the guy a few weeks ago who was staggering around in the middle of the street, obviously deranged, obstructing traffic, and ignoring police who told him to get out of the street, so they shot him dead.

There was a guy last week who had gone off the road and wrecked his car, and was running down the road looking for help when he saw a police car, so he ran up to the car shouting and waving his arms, so they shot him dead.

And in between all those are countless examples of absolutely innocent and unarmed people reaching into pockets for cell phones or id, or holding wallets or phones in their hands, getting shot dead by police who, well, not so much "jumped the gun" as jumped for the gun.

What the Hell is going on?  I used to have enormous respect for the police.  When my daughter was small I told her many times that if she ever was in trouble, or lost, or needed help, to find a police officer, and he or she would help her and keep her safe.

I'm not so sure of that any more.

Maybe Daughter does have some measure of protection from the police.  Unlike in every one of the incidents  above, Daughter is white.
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3769 Freakin' out, man! Part one.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Forget all the reasons it won’t work and focus on the one reason that it will.

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

I am freaking out here.  Three days ago I was playing with my hair, pleased that even at my advanced age my hair is still pretty thick (well, thick as it ever was given that it's always been super fine).  Yesterday and today I've been pulling it out in frustration and anger.

SWARM - the first aggravator.

You've probably seen the YouTube video of the motorcycle thing this past Sunday?  If not, it's at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13DzHnlaiNs.  Watch at the beginning.  The biker runs in the SUV's lane, right next to him, and is turned toward the driver's window.  Then he pulls in front of the SUV and hits the brakes, looking back the whole time, to make sure he gets hit.  Yep, as planned, the SUV bumps the bike, and stops.  The SUV is then swarmed by bikers.  If you listen carefully, you can hear helmets hitting the SUV.  (It was later reported that the SUV's tires were slashed at that time.)

The SUV driver tries to get away.  You can see him swerving to get around bikers. That big bump was when he drove over a motorbike - and the rider.  That rider has two broken legs and a broken back, is now in the hospital in an induced coma, may never walk again.

Note where the SUV gets stopped in traffic further on, and a biker tries to open the door, but the car gets away.  Later the SUV gets stopped again.  A biker starts hitting the window with a helmet - note it's the same sound we heard back in the beginning.  The video ends before the mob breaks the window, opens the door, pulls the (Asian) driver out, and kicks the shit out of him.

The driver's wife and 2-year-old son were in the car with him.

There were more than 200 911 calls reporting these guys, including one from the panicked SUV driver himself, and from other drivers and people along the route.

These assholes had no concern for anyone else on the road.  Most of those bikes did not have plates, were not street-legal, and of those riders who were detained or arrested, most of them were not licensed.  They paid no attention to niceties like lanes or speed limits or safe distances.  Some other assholes expect us to have sympathy for the guy who got run over, and want the SUV driver charged with hit and run.  Well, the injured guy's driver's license was taken away from him in the late '90s, he's not allowed to get it back for several more years (gotta wonder about how bad that is) and (I believe) he's never had a motorcycle license, but STILL he's had something like 15-17 traffic citations since losing his license.  (How is that guy not in jail?!)   So he wasn't even allowed to be there.

So, no, no sympathy.  You got exactly what you were asking for, fella.  Maybe now you'll stay off the streets.

If you haven't already seen it, please DO watch the video.  Imagine what that SUV driver was feeling.  Would you have done anything different?  Tell me in the comments.

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

A guy called into the local radio station today, and he was saying that he knows what was going on.  He said the mob was taking over the highway for tricks - that's why there was a camera.  He said to notice that as they passed on-ramps, there were more bikers sitting on the ramps, who then joined the ride.  What they were doing sitting on the ramps was preventing vehicular traffic from entering the road.  They very much resent vehicles who don't exit or at least pull over and let them have the road.  The SUV driver had the audacity to not get off their road.

And riders wonder why drivers hate them.

And you have to wonder about the arrogance and intelligence of people who would post that video on YouTube, like they're proud of it or something.  Complete assholes.  Any of you who know me have never heard me say that word, ever.  But sometimes, it just fits.

[I am aware that at least three readers of this blog ride.  I do hope none of this applies to you.]
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3768 Back

Saturday, September 28, 2013

If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.

--Anatole France--

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

A little over three weeks ago my back went out.  It's sort of ok now, finally, a bit touchy in the mornings, warning signals not to get fancy, ok by afternoon, but three weeks ago, for more than a week, I was hobbling around all bent over, with a walking stick to pull me upright, wearing the brace, afraid to carry a cup of tea from counter to table.

I've had that almost all my life.  It's a birth defect exacerbated by repeated trauma.  It's been worse.

Things are more complicated now, though.  The urologist I fired last January seemed to think I was careening headlong into full kidney failure.  He was so full of crap on so many other things I decided not to believe that, either.  But, uh, what if he was right for once?

It scares me a little that I can't tell the difference between pain in the kidneys and nerve pain from my lower back.  Actually, there IS no difference, since it's the same set of nerves screaming.  And there is such a thing as being in too much pain to go to the doctor, especially when there's a high probability it is just the pinched nerve and there's nothing they can do for it, except put me through more useless pain figuring that out.

I guess the only way I can be sure I'm not dying is that ... I'm getting better.
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3767 There's nobody home.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

"A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject."

--Sir Winston Churchill--

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

Long time no write.  My mind is stagnant.  I am isolated here.  I guess I could try harder to do something about it, but it doesn't seem worth the effort.

At the country house I went out for lunch or dinner with casual friends a few times a month.  I went to bar trivia with friends once a month.  There were occasional movies, museum visits, and so on.

Here, I talk to Daughter, Nugget, and Hercules, and occasionally over the fence to the neighbors to the south, and that's about it, except for the occasional store clerk.  Other than those few, I talk with no one.  Seriously.  I haven't had a real conversation with anyone in ... a year?  I'm going to forget what it's like.  (Well, to be honest, I listen more than I talk.  I love listening to others discuss things.  I'll throw a question in now and then, but mostly I just love to see other people's minds work.)

There is a local Mensa group, but everything seems to be centered around Princeton, and that's a long and annoying drive.  There's a dinner once a month just 15 minutes up the road, but it's an all-you-can-eat buffet, and that particular bunch (mostly obese males) seems to hunker over their plates shoveling it in, and they don't seem interested in conversation. 

The Princeton Mensans seem more interesting, but, oh, that drive!  At the country house I was more than willing to drive an hour north to Albany or an hour south to Walton for dinner, because the drive was beautiful and relaxing.  Here, the scenery is ugly and the other drivers on the road are out to kill me, and it's just no fun.  It's hectic and nasty.  I hate driving here.

I signed up for a bucket-load of local Meetup groups, but having gone to a few events, I am discouraged.  I have not enjoyed any of the meetup dinners I've gone to so far here in NJ.  Those people are just not my kind of people.  It's not me!  I'd been to many many Meetup dinners in Albany that I really enjoyed.  It really IS the people here.  I don't know what it is.  Like a shallowness or something.  A "look at me!" loudness.  Flitting from shiny thing to shiny thing.  There's no depth, no "there" there.

Plus there's an incredible amount of racism and classism here.  

Daughter belongs to a few women's groups, and she has a lot of friends her age.  They are always visiting back and forth.  She seems to think I need a friend or two.  She keeps trying to match me up with older women from her groups or from the Geocache club.  But I don't want a "friend".  I'm not keen on a forced one-on-one kind of thing.  Friends are a lot of work.  I'm not good at social upkeep.  And I guess I'm still smarting from FW and NJKC.  FW chewed me up to the point where she was affecting my health - real poison - and NJKC was fine until she got sick and then she withdrew from everyone.  In my life history, friends either overwhelm me with demands or they get to the point where they know where my soft spots are, and then they attack me.

All I want are some interesting groups that get together occasionally.  I haven't found that here.

Maybe if I did find some groups, there will be some one or two people that will "click", but that would, I would hope, take time, and anyway, it's not something I'm looking for.

In the meantime, my mind is stagnating.  The internet is my only input.
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3766 Failure of Justice

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The past is not dead.  In fact, it's not even past.

--William Faulkner--

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

The Paula Deen thing is still pissing me off.  People are acting like the lawsuit was completely bogus, everything was just fine, all is forgiven, welcome back.

It wasn't, and it isn't, and you aren't!

The suit had nothing whatsoever to do with Ms. Deen's use of the n-word twenty years ago.   That's just what the news media happened to pick up on.  They completely ignored the actual meat of the complaint.  I suspect it was because that's all Ms. Deen admitted to, and the reporters were perhaps afraid of being sued for defamation if they used material from the complaint before it was "proven".

The suit was about sexual and racial discrimination in the workplace.  (I read the complete filing.)  The court ruled that the complainant did not have standing in the racial discrimination part of the suit, so that part was dropped.  That doesn't mean it didn't happen!  What it means is that because the woman was white, and the suit involved discrimination against black employees of the restaurant, she could not sue for that because she suffered no loss because of it, and that's all it means.  You have to have "standing" to sue.  Her sexual discrimination portion was allowed to progress. The black employees would have to sue for the racial discrimination, but they would have to prove injury beyond insult, and that might be difficult (read "expensive") so that's not likely to happen.

Now the entire suit has been "dropped".  That doesn't mean it had no merit! What it means is that the parties reached an agreement and settled outside of court. 

From an article on the case,

Chapman University law professor Lawrence Rosenthal said that the attorneys in the case employed a common, and nonetheless shrewd, legal tactic when they agreed Friday to drop the case "without any award of costs or fees to any party," according to a court document.

Note the use of the word "award".  That doesn't mean no monies were paid.  It simply means that the court did not award money to anyone.  Naturally, because it was settled outside of court and the suit was dropped.  This also means that it is not a matter of public record, and we will never know how much it cost Ms. Deen to make it all go away.

No, Ms. Deen.  In my mind at least, the lawsuit was NOT completely bogus, everything was NOT just fine, and all is NOT forgiven!  In my mind at least, the very wording chosen by your attorneys shows that.
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3765 Out of mind

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

"Historically, the claim of consensus has been the first refuge of scoundrels;

it is a way to avoid debate by claiming that the matter is already settled."

--Michael Crichton--

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

I am annoyed by people who wrote "lol" at the end of statements when you know darn well they didn't really laugh out loud.  The Man knows people who say it ("l-o-l") in response to something funny, when the normal response would be to actually laugh.  How sad is that?

1950s, Beatnik coffee houses, poetry readings, nodding heads and snapping fingers instead of applause.   2020s, people sitting in their rooms watching a comedian on screen, good jokes, nodding heads and choruses of "lol, lol" instead of laughter.

Sigh.

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

What's with the hanging toes?  I see a lot of women who seem to buy sandals that are far too short for them, so that their toes hang over the ends of the shoes by an inch or so.  Do they think that's the way sandals are supposed to fit?  Don't their toes get stubbed?  Don't their toes drag in the dirt on every step?  I don't understand.

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

When I was very young I used to play a game with myself on long car trips.  I'd pretend someone from 300, 500, or 1,000 years ago was sitting next to me, and I'd explain everything we passed to them.  I'd imagine their questions and responses.  I still do it every once in a great while when I'm alone on the road and the radio choices are crap.

I wonder if these imaginary conversations say anything about my personality.

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

In August, a sports writer in Kansas City committed suicide.  Before doing so, he set up a website, "Martin Manley: My Life and Death", into which he apparently poured everything he wanted to say, and which "went live" the day of his death.  The site has more than 40 subpages with titles such as, "Why Suicide?," "Why Age 60?," "Growing Up," "The Heavens," "First Two Loves," "Pictures," "KC Star," "Legal," "911 & Conspiracies" and "COOL STUFF."  It would appear that he put a lot of time and effort into it, and intended to leave it as a kind of memorial.  He wrote:

"Today is August 15, 2013. Today is my 60th birthday. Today is the last day of my life. Today, I committed suicide. Today, is the first day this site is active, but it will be here for years to come."

He paid the site host, Yahoo, for five years, the longest for which Yahoo would allow prepayment.

I haven't read it, but from what I've read about it, nothing there was the kind of thing that would encourage anyone else to commit suicide.  It's his view of his life, the interesting things that happened to him, the workings of his own mind, and his logical reasons for wrapping it up.  Sort of "it's been great, see the other sections for how great, but now I'm done".

Well, Yahoo took it down.  Gone.  Erased. Done. (Some people were afraid that would happen, so there's a copy from cache available to those who know where to look.)

I am furious!  Yahoo had no right to simply destroy it all.  I hope he comes back and haunts Yahoo corporate offices!

The man wrote a memorial to his life, made it available to others, paid Yahoo to keep it for him, and Yahoo tore it up by the roots and threw it away?  They could have just broken the link, and turned the text over to family.  But they didn't.  All that work, and, shrug, it's all gone.

(There's a small bit about coordinates to a buried treasure in an arboretum, which has some people tromping around trying to find it, but it's fairly obvious that was a joke, and a lure to pull readers, sort of like the blurb on the back of a book jacket.  That's not why Yahoo pulled the site.  I suspect it was simply the act of "suicide" associated with the site that shocked their feeble-minded lawyers.)

Here's a story: http://mashable.com/2013/08/16/blogger-suicide-60th-birthday/
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3764 Rachel Carson lives

Monday, September 9, 2013

"There is always more misery among the lower classes than there is humanity in the higher."

--Victor Hugo--

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

One of the biggest differences between the city house and the country house is the presence of paper wasps, yellow jackets, ground wasps, hornets, and the like.

At the country house, if you leave a car parked outside for a few days, every door seam, trunk lid, hood seam, wheel well, gas cap cover, will be full of yellow jacket nests.  You quickly learn to be very careful opening things.

Every high house eave corner will at some time or another acquire a huge round hornet's nest. 

At some point every summer you are guaranteed to step on a ground digger yellow jacket nest.  They love lawns.  Teleportation is a quickly learned skill.

Anything left outside that has a sheltered spot, a small hole, a covered area, like deck chairs or empty flower pots, will gather irritable inhabitants. 

It's a serious problem.

Today I was sitting on a chair on the patio at the city house, and through painfully-acquired habit I checked the chair for wasps flying around it before sitting, and I was careful not to let my fingers curl around to the underside of the armrests.  When I realized what I was doing, I realized that I haven't seen a single wasp here.

Not one.

Rather than being pleased, I'm worried.

Why no wasps? 
.

3763 Chobani

Thursday, September 5, 2013

"If we let people see that kind of thing, there would never again be any war."

--senior Pentagon official on reasons why United States military censored footage

showing Iraqi soldiers sliced in two by U.S. helicopter fire.--

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 Back in early August of 2011, I posted about finding mold in containers of Chobani yogurt, and how some were swelling and fermenting.  I got a comment on one of those posts from a Chobani rep offering an explanation ("no control after it leaves our facilities") and offering me coupons for more of the stuff.  A quick internet search back then showed that the problem wasn't confined to that batch, or that store, or that truck - it was pretty common, and all over. 

My take is that I've never seen mold or smelled and tasted alcohol in any other plain yogurt - and I often don't refrigerate my yogurt.  Properly made and handled, it doesn't need it.  That's why it has been popular in hot countries for thousands of years.

(Note - technically, yogurt is the result of a fermenting process, but the agent is a bacteria, and the process is slowed when the yogurt is chilled, or stops when the bacteria has eaten all the sugar in the milk - sort of like bread yeast works.  There shouldn't be any mold, and there shouldn't be any alcohol produced.)

Well, Chobani is in the news now.  The stuff is still (or again?) sprouting mold and producing gasses and alcohol.  Chobani has been pulling containers off store shelves.  They haven't issued an official recall, haven notified the public, haven't notified the FDA, they're just contacting stores and asking them to pull it.  Not all of it, just a certain batch.

They say it's a "mold common in dairy facilities" and not dangerous.

I call BS.  If it's so common, how come I've never seen or heard of the problem with any other yogurt?  Never had a Dannon or store-brand container swell or grow mold even when taken on weekend and longer trips with no refrigeration?  Yogurt isn't supposed to have mold in it!

They've known they've had a problem for at least two years. 

"A mold common in dairy facilities" doesn't worry me as much as what its presence might indicate about their facility and process.

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In other news, my back is out.  I've felt it coming on for the past two weeks, and now I'm wearing the brace and hobbling around with a walking stick, bent over like a crone.  I can't accomplish anything.
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3762 Chicken Farmers

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

"If you make people think they're thinking, they'll love you; 

if you really make them think, they'll hate you."

--Don Marquis--

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Am I the only person who thinks it's hypocritical that folks get all huffy when someone uses "retarded" to mean stupid, but no one blinks twice at the same use of the word "dumb"?

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This is cool:  a series of concrete arrows ten miles apart crossing the continent from New York to San Fransisco!   They were used to guide mail planes across the country in the days before guidance systems.  If I were younger and had an ATV, or a horse, and liked to camp out, I'd want to follow this trail before it completely disappears.  It's more interesting to me and less depressing than the fabled route 66.

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When I was very small we lived a few places in the south, like Fort Bragg, and Biloxi.  One time when I was maybe five years old, there was a holiday parade, and mixed in with the thrilling bands and floats there was a bunch of boring people in ghost costumes.  For some reason my mother got all tense and upset and muttered that they shouldn't be allowed.  I agreed, because they were boring, but so were the boys with the shoulder bands covered with badges, and the women in aprons, so I asked why they were worse and shouldn't be allowed.

Mom said they were the coo clucks clan, that they were fowl people, they kill people they don't like, and I should stay away from them.

I was shocked that chicken farmers would kill you. Why were they different from cow farmers and corn farmers?

For several years after I felt very brave eating chicken, because what if the farmer didn't like me and the chicken was poisoned?  To this day, 60+ years later, when anyone mentions the KKK, my first thought is of pigeons and chickens.
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3761 Spiders

Thursday, August 28, 2013

Drugs have taught an entire generation of American kids the metric system.

--P.J. O'Rourke--

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There are spider webs at the top of the wall where it joins the ceiling over the sliding glass doors.   They ride the door frame to get in, I guess.  It looks awful. 

I have two upright vacuum cleaners, one upstairs and one downstairs, and the hoses of neither will reach that high, which freaks me out because all my life I had used canister vacuums, which you can lift, and which seem to have longer hoses anyway, but when I last went vacuum shopping, ALL I COULD FIND WAS UPRIGHTS, WHICH I HATE BECAUSE THEY ARE CONSTANTLY HEAVY ON MY ARMS WHEN I RUN THEM.   It's like pushing a chair around.  HATE HATE HATE!  Do those things have ANY redeeming qualities?

I hate to use a wrapped stick or broom to go after webs, because that leaves web smears that are almost impossible to get.  I have the little battery-operated electric broom vacuum, and I was able to stand on a stepladder and run that around, but it didn't get into the angle very well, and worse, the wheels marked the wall.

So I stand there and swear at the spiders and try to convince myself that they're good, because they'll eat the clothes moths and the ants.  Except that there are no moths, and ants don't go that high.  Sigh.

Last evening I opened the slider, and a small, round, chubby, black spider dropped off the frame onto the floor.  She ran back and forth on the floor along the edge of the doorframe.  I tried to use my toe to herd her over the lip and back outside, but that didn't work.  So I got a piece of paper, intending to slide it under her, maybe, and flip her out.

The instant the paper touched her, she exploded!

Seriously.  Literally.

Hundreds, thousands, millions, billions, I didn't count, but jillions of tiny black dots burst off her and scattered in every direction.  They were fast, and tiny, not much larger than the period at the end of this sentence.

I teleported myself across the room.

She was carrying her babies on her body.  Some spiders do that.

By the time I had the courage to go back over there, she and the babies had disappeared.

So, what now?  How do you handle cobwebs?  (Actually, it's not cobwebs.  Cobwebs are ethereal, made by cellar spiders or house spiders, those almost transparent white spiders.  These spiders are outside beasts who build real webs, tough ones.  Big ones.  Webs with houses to hide in.)
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