2758 Bear Cam!

Friday, January 22, 2010

The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree but hold hands.
-- Alexander Penney --

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

At http://www.bear.org/ you'll find a real-time web camera in a hibernating bear's den. She's giving birth today, they think.

Firefox seems to object to the necessary addons, but Internet Explorer works.
.

2757 Who posted the party flyer?

Friday, January 22, 2010

The best helping hand that you will ever receive
is the one at the end of your own arm.
-- Fred Dehner --

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

It's not yet noon, but I've already had 25 unique visits from 8 different countries today. What the devil happened? I've always been comfortable with a small tight group of "known" visitors. They're not coming from Blogspot's random "next blog". They're coming direct, or from crawlers and aggregators, or from specific searches for this blog's URL. Those're the scariest ones. Where did they get the URL? I purposely don't use tags, to be less interesting to aggregators and crawlers.

With strangers come spammers and trolls. Sigh. Well, welcome, please wipe your feet, sit down and have a cuppa and a cookie, no, it's ok, the kitty is merely a bit shy. Just behave yourselves, ok? Please don't make me hide again.
.

2756 Incompatible

Friday, January 22, 2010

The art of life is to show your hand.
-- E. V. Lucas --

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

Ever have two completely incompatible ideas in your head at once? Somehow, I have decided today is Saturday. I have been surprised several times already this morning that it's Friday, yet I persist in thinking it's Saturday.

I was surprised that the "wrong" morning programs were on TV. I worried over it for a moment, then I realized, no, it's Friday.
I was thinking of someone I was supposed to call before the weekend, and was feeling bad that I hadn't called her yesterday, then realized, no, today is Friday.
I've scheduled "Precious" for my Meetup group on Sunday, and was starting to panic because I had not yet checked with the theater about reserving seats, because like 6 people have signed up, and it's a tiny theater that will fill fast and early on Sunday. Oh, ok, I have another day.
I started to pack up the recycle stuff for the Saturday morning trip to the recycle center. Oh, yeah, tomorrow.
I was thinking about what The Man would be doing today, then realized, no, he's at work today.
When I go to the recycle center, I listen to "Car Talk" on NPR on the car radio. I wasn't going to the recycle center (I guess I forgot why), but I turned the house radio on, and was annoyed that "Car Talk" wasn't on.


I KNOW today is Friday, but somehow my body/mind is in Saturday mode, and I can't seem to reset it. I think this is going to give me trouble all day.

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

I found an amusing blog: http://hownottodateonline.com/. The lady writes cringeworthy Craigslist personals, and posts them, including some of the responses she gets from Craigslist prowlers. She makes some very funny video-dating clips. She posts profiles on dating sites, and when she gets a sniff from some poor unsuspecting guy, her response would, well, either attract a guy with an exceptional sense of humor, or make the average guy immediately delete his profile and hide quivering in the corner. (In her blog, click on the Craigslist text, then click again to enlarge it.)

It reminds me of the time I was looking for a friend's profile on a certain dating site which would not allow me to search unless I created a profile myself. So I described myself as a bald obese 94-year-old looking for a strong young man to assist me in bathing and colostomy care, along with "other expected benefits".

Here's one of her videos:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qddB5P0pl1Y]

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

I just had a quick flash of panic - glanced at the clock and thought "OMG, I'm missing 'Car Talk'!" Toldja it was going to bite me all day....
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2755 I may regret this

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Hold a true friend with both hands.
-- Nigerian Proverb --

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

I just did something I may regret. On the other hand, if it turns out I could have done it, and I didn't do it, I definitely would regret it.

I'm getting older, and I've noticed that the inevitable deterioration is speeding up, so I don't have the luxury of putting things off. If I want to do it ever, do it now, before I can't.

I just put down a deposit on a trip to, well, here's the short version of the itinerary:

Day 1 (Thu- 10/28): Group flight departs JFK at 6:10 PM.
Day 2 (Fri - 10/29): Arrive Delhi, India.
Day 3 (Sat - 10/30): Day tour of Taj Mahal.
Day 4 (Sun - 10/31): Fly Delhi to Kathmandu.
Day 5 (Mon - 11/1): Free day in Kathmandu.
Day 6 (Tue - 11/2): Fly Kathmandu to Lhasa.
Day 7 (Wed - 11/3): Lhasa tour. (B)
Day 8 (Thu - 11/4): Lhasa tour. (B)
Day 9 (Fri - 11/5): Lhasa to Gyantse. (B)
Day 10 (Sat - 11/6): Gyantse to Shigatse. (B)
Day 11 (Sun - 11/7): Shigatse to Xegar. (B)
Day 12 (Mon - 11/8): Xegar to Rongbuk Monastery. (B)
Day 13 (Tue - 11/9): Mt Everest Base Camp visit. (B)
Day 14 (Wed - 11/10): Rongbuk to Nyalam. (B)
Day 15 (Thu - 11/11): Nyalam to Kathmandu. (B)
Day 16 (Fri - 11/12): Fly Kathmandu to New York (JFK).
Day 17 (Sat - 11/13): Arrive New York (JFK) at 12:40 PM. Trip Ends.

I am going to Shangri La.

[Meetup trip announcements here and here. Travel company description (more complete) here. Eighteen people in the group, from two Meetup groups, from Albany and NYC. The price mentioned is misleading - that's just the deposit.]
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2754 The cheese, the fox, and the scale

Thursday, January 21, 2010

The fragrance always remains
in the hand that gives the rose.
-- Heda Bejar --

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

Rocky, the (random! really!) quote is for you.

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

I found a pound container of cottage cheese with pineapple in the refrigerator. I couldn't remember when I'd bought it, but I knew it had been sitting there for a while. It's been cold, so I haven't been walking, so I've been avoiding calories. I love that stuff. I decided to check it, or throw it out.

The expiration date is on the lid.

It said March 24, 2008.

Almost two years? I suddenly felt very old, and very sick. I didn't want to open it because I was sure it was solid green, but I didn't want to drop the container in the garbage because, well, it was so heavy, and the container is recyclable. I opened it outside, on the way across the driveway to dump it in the woods.

It was pristine.

I smelled it. It smelled good. I stuck my finger in it and tasted it. It tasted not just good, but absolutely fresh. It didn't even have that "last week" tang. I took it back in the house, and ate some. It was good. I didn't die.

I don't understand.

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

Have you noticed that the evening schedule on Fox is geared to attract very young people? Vampires and teen soaps. And Fox news is scheduled early, 10 pm around here, an hour earlier than the other networks.

Is that coincidence, marketing plan, or a conservative plot to indoctrinate them young?

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

My next youngest brother is a fidgiter, which used to drive me crazy. He couldn't simply walk down the street without practicing his bowling approach, softball throw, bouncing, snapping fingers. Never sat still. Wriggle. Jiggling legs. Clicking pens. He also ate enormous quantities, almost constantly. Half a box of cereal with three cups of milk at breakfast.

And he never gained any excess weight.

Me, on the other hand, I'm still. I am the quiet smile in the corner. The calm in the eye of the storm. No excess movement. I am burgundy wine.

I'd had no problem with weight gain, though, because I never ate much. The weight problems came with menopause. By 2005 I was a good 50 pounds overweight. I lost 40 in 2005-2006, then gradually gained 25 back. In 2009, I lost 15 of those pounds, and then got stuck. I figure I need to lose 15 more, but my body rebelled.

I won't walk in the cold, I hate gyms, and the treadmill is so boring I can't motivate myself to get on it. I decided I needed to start fidgiting.

I've been fidgiting for three weeks now. Sitting at the desk, I jiggle my legs on my toes. Walking through the house I take tiny steps and lift my knees high. Washing dishes I wiggle my hips. I stand and walk in place to watch TV or read. When thinking, I roll my shoulders. If I catch myself being still, I move something.

It's working. I've lost five pounds over the three weeks, and it seems to be holding firm.

With all this jiggling, my typing has gone to hell. All the backspacing and correcting makes everything take twice as long, but if that's the cost of 10 more pounds, I'll pay it.
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2753 Blue Whale Trivia

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

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

Blue whale songs are getting deeper. All over the world, the songs of blue whales have dropped in pitch by 31% since the 1960s. There are a lot of possible explanations, but none are convincing. Story at http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2009/12/blue-whale-song-mystery/.

Caution - the end of that article has a list of links that can drag away an entire afternoon, like

• Whales Might Be as Much Like People as Apes Are
• Male Humpback Whales Sing Duets
• Underwater Glider Hunts, Records Cryptic Whales
• Hidden Whale Culture Could Be Critical to Species Survival
• Supreme Court: National Security Trumps Whales, Environmental Law
• Bird Cam Captures Albatross, Killer Whale Rendezvous

... all are other Wired articles.
.

2752 Grazer Trivia

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The hand is the cutting edge of the mind.
-- Jacob Bronowski --

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

This is cool. I had noticed that cattle grazing in a field almost all seemed to be facing the same direction. I'd always thought it was just that they were all moving the same direction.

The folks at Princeton have discovered that the direction is always north/south.

From the paper "Magnetic alignment in grazing and resting cattle and deer", 04/2008, at http://www.pnas.org/content/early/2008/08/22/0803650105.abstract:

We demonstrate by means of simple, noninvasive methods (analysis of satellite images, field observations, and measuring “deer beds” in snow) that domestic cattle (n = 8,510 in 308 pastures) across the globe, and grazing and resting red and roe deer (n = 2,974 at 241 localities), align their body axes in roughly a north–south direction.

That's magnetic, rather than geographic, north/south.

This observation was followed by an Oxford paper, "Extremely low-frequency electromagnetic fields disrupt magnetic alignment of ruminants", 02/2009, at http://www.pnas.org/content/106/14/5708.abstract:

Here, we show that extremely low-frequency magnetic fields (ELFMFs) generated by high-voltage power lines disrupt alignment of the bodies of these animals with the geomagnetic field. Body orientation of cattle and roe deer was random on pastures under or near power lines. Moreover, cattle exposed to various magnetic fields directly beneath or in the vicinity of power lines trending in various magnetic directions exhibited distinct patterns of alignment.

So, power companies, want to tell us again about how power lines don't affect bird migrations, or bee navigation, or cattle health, or development of children, or leukemia, or autism, because they "obviously" have no effect on any living tissue?

An unaddressed thought - A lot of cows don't graze loose in fields, but are fed in barns or from bins next to the fence. For happier cows, should we arrange the "table" so the cows are facing north or south when they dine?
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2751 Perspectives

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

You can't shake hands with a clenched fist.
-- Indira Gandhi --

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

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

In my humble opinion, people who are against any kind of health care reform fall into at least one of the following groups:

1. don't understand what the problem is,
2. don't understand what the possible solutions are,
3. profit under the current system,
4. are heardhearted SOBs who figure I've got mine and anybody who didn't manage their lives as well as I did can't have any of mine 'cause I ain't giving anything away, (and yes, they exist, I know personally three people who have expressed that opinion).

The current proposal is a piece of crap that attempts to appease all four groups. I am annoyed because there has been no attempt to educate people. Sob stories is not educational. If anything, sob stories just harden number fours.

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

I watch "Antiques Roadshow". When someone has something special, appraised at some large number, like a 150-year-old quilt at $25,000, my first thought is "Wow, that's a lot!" Then my second thought is "That's less than one year at an ivy-league college."

Folks are running all kinds of benefits for Haiti now. I heard that some local concert had raised $300,000 dollars, and I thought "Gee, that's a lot!" It had to come from people who have it to give, right?

I wondered, if Haiti hadn't happened, why couldn't charity concerts like that be used to help people who have lost jobs, who are losing houses? Not everyone in foreclosure bought more house than they can afford. Three months of unemployment can lose the house. You can do everything right, and still get shot in the foot. It's not a personal failing. I've heard that health care costs is one of the leading causes of personal bankruptcy.

But I guess bragging that you gave for Haiti has more cachet than saying you helped save a house for a family of five - even though the family had no more control over what happened to them than the Haitians did.

And then there's Scott Brown, the guy who won Ted Kennedy's seat. He campaigned on a promise to kill the healthcare reform bill. Campaigning is very costly, and yet he has several million left over! Those were donations, from people who have it to give. And they gave it to stop health care reform. Guess which group(s) above they probably fall into.

I'm getting the impression that Americans, who like to think they are very generous as a people, will give only for the kudos, or to protect what they have. They'll buy praise, or they'll protect their asses, but they don't give to whoever needs just because it's needed.

I don't understand.

Go kiss someone working in a soup kitchen. They may not have it to give, but they give anyway.
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2750 Crystal Columns

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Love is the only game you are sure to lose by declining to play.

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

Cave, full of huge translucent crystals. Fascinating story with amazing video: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/8466493.stm

Further detail: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/6518161.stm

2749 Old Photos

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully
as when they do it from religious conviction.
-- Blaise Pascal --

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Shorpy.com | History in HD is a vintage photography blog featuring thousands of high-definition images from the 1850s to 1950s. The site is named after Shorpy Higginbotham, a teenage coal miner who lived 100 years ago.

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

It's snowing. I hate winter.
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2748 Mumps?

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Barbara Kingsolver's character Adah in The Poisonwood Bible points out that God created vermin and microbes as well as humans, and "He's not necessarily rooting for just the humans."

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

I'm eating coffee yogurt, and something very odd is happening. With every spoonful, I get biting pain under both sides of my tongue. The glands under my jaw are swollen. I've heard that the test for mumps is to feed the kid a sour pickle, and if it hurts, it's mumps.

Is it possible I have mumps? That would explain the pain around my left ear. Counting back the incubation period, I would have picked it up New Year's Eve.

I don't remember ever having had mumps. I remember chicken pox and measles, I don't remember mumps, but I doubt it was possible I escaped mumps.

Cute.
.

2747 Better

Sunday, January 17, 2010

From "A Chorus Line":
I thought about committing suicide, but in Buffalo, suicide is redundant.

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

I felt a lot better when I woke this morning, just a tired feeling remaining between my shoulder blades and in my arms and legs. As the sun is going down, however, the coldness is coming back, and the heavy feeling in my middle. Whatever it is, probably a virus, my body seems to be fighting it well.

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

I get the Mensa Bulletin every month - a 46-page glossy magazine - and I almost never open it. It usually goes straight into the recycle bag. There's rarely anything of interest in it, and frankly, much of the writing, from people who seem to think they're fascinating, is annoying. The fiction is especially bad.

Yesterday, for some reason, as I was about to discard it, I flipped it open, directly to an article on handling problem members, and it just so happened that the specific problem on that page was people who can't seem to figure out how much their portion of the restaurant bill comes to, often stiffing the host.

Serendipity.

So I read it.

The author recommends handing out envelopes at the table. As each person orders, they are to write what they ordered and the price on the outside of the envelope. At the end of the meal, they total it up, multiply by the tax plus tip, put the money in the envelope, and pass it to the table host. That makes it easy to check that all items on the bill are claimed and paid for.

You know, I don't think that would go over too well with the Meetup groups. It sounds good, but the very people who cause the problem would think it silly, and be insulted that they're being treated like children, and probably forget to write down the wine and dessert anyway. Consider that one of the problem women said loudly, when the money was short by quite a bit, and it turned out she was the one who was short, "Don't you hate people who pull out calculators at the table?"

As usual for Mensa, logically sensible, but socially unworkable.
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2746 Sick?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Flip Wilson, as Geraldine: "You don't have to be a thing of beauty to be a joy forever."

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

I was not very sparkling at dinner last night. Anyone looking at me would have thought I was either tired or sad.

When I got home, I had a heaviness in my upper abdomen; I wondered if something I had eaten was getting nasty at me.

I got to bed about 2 am, and slept very badly, waking at about 8 am and unable to get back to sleep. Do you ever get that feeling of foreboding? I had it.

I feel icky today. I have boosted the thermostat to 78 and put on a long robe over my clothes, but I'm still freezing. The skin in the center of my body feels hot and dry, but the battery thermometer says 98.2, and the old mercury thermometer (which I trust more) says 98.55, so I don't have a fever.

I have pain across the small of my back, above my hips, more on the right than the left. I have a rock of pain under and behind my left ear, from the point of the jawbone to the center of the back of my head. There's pain across my eyebrows. My upper back feels very tired - I can't hold my shoulders back; my shoulders ache, feel like they've been beaten. They curl forward. I slump. My feet smell very salty.

No snuffly nose, though.

I was so cold and miserable that I climbed into bed, fully dressed and under the blankets, at 1 pm, and slept until after 5. There goes the dinner and movie that was scheduled for this evening. I'm not too distressed about missing that. This group is run by guys, and they planned dinner in the food court at the mall, and the movie is "The Lovely Bones". I read the book long ago, and couldn't understand why it was so popular, and then I read a review that didn't make the movie sound any better, so, eh.

I hate feeling like this with no explanation.

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

Another blogger has written about An Innocent looking to buy a car in New Jersey. The kid was likely to be eaten by sharks.

It reminded me of my shopping for a car for Jay. He had slid on ice and wracked up his Subaru, and we needed a small cheap car ASAP for his commute. We had just received a check from his father for Christmas, so we decided to use that. $X,000 was the absolute limit (I forget what the number was).

I did exactly what what the Innocent above did, but with one slight difference. In the end, I was the shark.

I called every dealer, new and used, in the phone book. I said "I'm calling every dealer in the book, looking for a car. I have exactly $X,000, which must cover all costs. I need a car immediately. What do you have?" I just wanted to find out what was available at that price.

Most offered huge gas-guzzling 10+year-old junkers with high mileage, until a salesman at the Chevy dealership offered a little red three-year-old Chevy Cavalier with less than 60,000 miles on it, that they had just taken in on trade. It was just in, not yet "detailed". Wow.

I reiterated the limit, which would have to include taxes and registration, and the salesman assured me that was the price. I accepted his offer ("I accept your offer of ...") contingent on examination and test drive that afternoon - and then I told him that having called so many dealers and not trusting my notes, I had recorded the conversation (NY requires that only one party be aware of recording), so is there any part of his offer he wanted to amend or rescind? He said no.

We went, we looked, we tapped, tweaked, and prodded, we test-drove, and when it came to the paper-signing part, the manager came over and said that the price of the car was --- a whole bunch more, but "we might be able to bring that down a bit. "

I said, "Is this man (the salesman) authorized to strike a deal?"
Manager, "Yes. You can talk with him."
Me, "Then there's nothing to talk about. We have already agreed on $X,000 total."
Manager, shaking head, "No, we can't possibly sell this car for that."
Me, "You already did. I'm sure you know the legal definition of offer and acceptance. Your man offered it for $X,000, and I accepted, and I have the offer and acceptance on tape. We have already agreed on the price. There is nothing more to discuss."

The look on the manager's face was priceless. The salesman slumped in his seat. We signed the papers, and drove the car off the lot right then, just to make sure we got the whole car, if you know what I mean.

It was an absolutely fantastic deal, seasoned by the knowledge that the salesman had tried to trick us in to see it, and didn't know who he was tricking.

Several years later I sold the car to The Hairless Hunk. It's probably almost 16 years old now, and still running fine.

I wish I was running as well.

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

Update, 9:00 pm. 99.8. Shivering. Yeah, sick.
.

2745 Encouraged, Discouraged

Friday, January 15, 2010

Stories are simple sequences of events, plots are about causes, motivation ..., what stories mean. ...life is all stories, and fiction is all plots.....
-- Peter Ho Davies --

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

On yesterday's post - the gentleman called this morning and asked if he had gotten out of line at all. I said no. He remembers nothing, I hope. Good. It sounds like the small town network works, because several of his friends dropped by his house during the course of yesterday afternoon and evening, and they had a pizza party. I stopped in his office this afternoon and had quite a chat with his daughter while he was conducting business on the phone. He gave me a few glances that seemed to me to be full of concern, but I think we're ok.

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

On the great under/over toilet paper dispute - I have the definitive answer. If you have young playful animals or children in the house, then it must go under so that when the young'uns bat at it, it won't unroll all over the floor. Otherwise, over. Personally, I don't put it on a wall holder at all. It's much more convenient just sitting on the back of the john.

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

There are stupid men, and stupid women. I am unhappily coming to the conclusion that the stupid women outnumber the stupid men, and are stupider. I don't want to believe it, but the evidence is overwhelming.

Ethnic dinner in Albany this evening. Eleven people at the table. Total bill was over $300 before tax and tip. Everybody figured up what they owed and put it in the pile. The pile was at least $70 short, before tax and tip. Four or five people had underpaid, but one of them was unbelievable. She said her bill came to $18, so she had put $20 in. Uh, $2 does not cover tax (close to 9%) and tip on $18. The recommendation is 25% of the tab to cover tax and tip, so she was asked to put in another $2.50 on her $18, and she flipped out.

Now, what the others seemed to miss is that she kept saying, "I had only three appetizers!" Hey, folks. The appetizers were $9 each. Then someone asked about drinks, trying to account for all the wine on the tab. The woman said, "Oh, yeah, I had a glass of Chablis." That's another $9. Then someone asked who had the yogurt dip, and she admitted she had asked for it because her whatsis was dry, but she didn't know they were going to charge her for it. That was $4. That's $40 right there, $50 with tax and tip.

Now, get this. She STILL figured she was fine with her $20. "After all," she said, "I only had three appetizers!" She was absolutely pissed that she was asked to put more in, and she all but accused people of trying to get her to cover the shortage of others.

How do you reason with someone like that? Someone who refuses to listen to reason?

I've seen it at almost every dinner where we didn't run separate checks.

I'll remember that the next time I run a dinner with one of my groups.

It's funny, but not surprising, that it's usually the person who comes up short on the tab who blusters that the only fair thing is to split the tab evenly --- without seeming to realize that then they'd have to pay significantly more.

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

I am so discouraged. I have worked and associated most of my life with people selected for intelligence by employers. But I also noticed that many of the clerks in stores, delivery and service people, mechanics, the "ordinary" people I run into, are mostly indistinguishable from the "intellectually elite". Their experiences and references are different, their education may be lacking, but their thinking and conclusions are usually, frequently, sound. I am often impressed. (We already know I find self-exalted Mensans to often be obstinately stupid.)

The only previous time I'd seen such stupefying lack of logic in females was when I briefly played "suburban housewife and new mother", and did the morning tea and afternoon baby shower circuit with the other women in the Ballwin, Mo., neighborhood. I was ready to chew the walls.

Meetup may kill me.

(I don't know if this means anything, it's a small sample, but all the women I'm meeting who are divorced from all logic and incapable of simple math, all of them so far, seem to be originally from The Bronx, and/or "Lon-Guylan". Does the culture there encourage mental helplessness in females? And make them defensive and combative when you attempt to explain something to them? Oh - and are they all so loud?)
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2744 Now what?

Thursday, January 14, 2010

"I know you believe you understand what you think I said,
but I am not sure you realize that what you heard
is not what I meant."
-- Alan Greenspan, to Congress --

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

I've got a problem.

Yesterday and today I had nothing on the calendar, but I had a whole list of things that absolutely must be done soon. Like bills. Estimated taxes. Laundry. Bank. Grocery shopping (I'm almost out of anything Jasper will deign to eat). More. Yesterday I just fooled around all day. I knew that would make today a full day, but a little rest and relaxation would do me good.

Today quickly went to hell.

I have a friend whom I see a few times a month. He has a live-in girlfriend. He and I and a mutual friend were supposed to get together earlier this week, but the two of them didn't show up. I worried a little that his mother was sick, but waited to hear from him. He called this morning to apologize, and said that everything's ok. I told him that's too bad, because I figured that if I didn't see a cast on a leg next time I saw him, I'd have to put one on him. He laughed, then said that actually, something bad did happen.

He and the girlfriend had the biggest fight ever, a really loud and nasty one, over his going out to meet me, apparently, and she has moved out. She says she's not coming back, and he said that as usual, she'll soon realize she can't support herself, and she'll be back, but he's not going to let her in.

I don't think it was really over his going out to meet me (she was invited, but wouldn't have come - she and the third friend despise each other). I think the argument would have happened soon anyway, any trigger would have done. Anyway, I could tell he was in a bad way, so I asked if he wanted to talk about it, and we decided to meet in his office, he'd call me and let me know when he'd be free.

A while later, having not heard from him, I decided to go look for him. I was afraid he'd found a bottle. There are no bars in the village, but there is a liquor store. He's not a regular drinker, but he does drink when he's upset, and then he drinks until he passes out.

I found him in his office, with the door locked, with his younger business associate, and a buddy. And a bottle. Both men were worried about him and didn't seem to know what to do with him. They had locked the door to hide him from clients. They were drinking, too, mostly in an effort to keep him from finishing the bottle himself, I think.

I volunteered to drive him home and get some food into him if they could pour him into my car. He sang to me the whole way home. Except when he was talking. And that's where the problem came in.

He confessed a many-year love for me, says that he falls asleep dreaming of my breasts, loves me, wants me, wants to see me naked, etc. etc. When we got to his house I tried to get him to eat something, or lie down and take a nap, but he didn't want anything but me, hugging a lot.

Oh, Good Grief! I have been aware that he finds me attractive (I don't know why, I'm usually unwashed and unmadeup when I see him, and I've never flirted with or teased him in that way). I'm sure that when he sobers up, he's going to remember what he said and will be embarrassed.

Before I left I looked him in the eye and told him that I am his good friend, that he could say absolutely anything to me and it's ok. I tried to make sure he heard and understood. But I'm afraid everything has changed anyway.

I went back to his office and talked with his associate about maybe getting his daughter to move in with him for a while. He shouldn't be alone. He's one of those people who can't be alone - always needs someone around. That's why the girlfriend lasted so long, even though she's been "just a housemate" for many years. She was company.

He doesn't know any other women. I've been like a buddy, I thought. I think he needs to meet some more women.

I don't know what to do now, how to "be" next time I see him. I don't know whether this has to be talked out or ignored.

I don't know what to do now.

... except laundry, taxes, bills ... it's going to be a long evening ...
.

2743 Photos from Haiti

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Don't join dangerous cults; practice safe sects.

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The Big Picture photos from Boston.com: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/01/earthquake_in_haiti.html

Donations -
Red Cross: http://american.redcross.org/site/PageServer?pagename=ntld_main
Salvation Army:
https://secure20.salvationarmy.org/pages/makeDonation/usa/makeDonation.jsf
Habitat for Humanity:
https://www.habitat.org/cd/giving/donate.aspx?link=227
Doctors without Borders: https://donate.doctorswithoutborders.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=197&hbc=1&source=ADR1001E1D01

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2742 I lived through dinner, then a grue ate me.

Wednesday, January 12, 2010

"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson --

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Last night was the first meetup of my singles' group. Reservations did gradually fall away, so by 6:30 pm I was expecting six women. Four showed up. Two who had said yes did not. I hear that's pretty typical. We also had one man arrive who insisted that he had RSVP'd yes, but neither I nor Meetup had any record of that. No big deal.

The guy was a physicist, and one of the women was a theoretical mathematician, so the conversation somehow started with imaginary numbers, and veered into multiple dimensions and intersections of multidimensional objects , and the nature of time. One of the other women was ... I'm not sure what to call her, but she sees orbs and hears spirits, that sort of thing ... so that conversation occasionally took an odd turn (I'd like to make a joke about "dementional objects", but foo, I've had experiences with ESP and "ghosts", and I believe in a kind of reincarnation, so I can't).

The service was terrible! I had called the restaurant last week to ask if I'd need reservations, and had been told that Tuesday nights were quiet. It wasn't. There was some kind of conference going on in the back room, and when that was over, the participants stayed for dinner. Every table and the bar was full. Then about 8:30, a guy started setting up speakers right next to our table. Uh oh. Turned out it was team trivia, so we played. That was fun.

At leaving, one woman urged me in the parking lot to expand the group to lower ages. Her argument was that men in their fifties and sixties always want women in their thirties and forties. Um, yeah, so what? When an older man wants a younger woman, it's often because he's looking for a nurse, someone to take care of him. Besides, there are plenty of other groups for the younger singles. He can go there. (And if a guy isn't rich or strikingly handsome, he's unlikely to find the trophy caretaker, anyway, and he should know that, and if he doesn't, he's stupid, so why would we want him anyway? But I didn't say that.)

I don't have the faintest idea what to do next. We never got around to talking about that.

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Does anyone besides me remember Zork? It was a text-based computer game. Jay and I used to play it for hours. He had a huge piece of paper on which he had mapped the underground, with locations of items and dangers.

Gathering weapons and tools and finding your way around is one level of difficulty - figuring out how to talk to the system is the other. It sometimes seems to be very obstinate.

A description, and how to play, are at http://en.allexperts.com/e/z/zo/zork.htm.

You can play it at http://thcnet.net/zork/index.php.

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This is beautiful(warning - the music may be too loud for work, turn speakers down):

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TT1OX4wSBVg&NR=1&feature=fvwp]
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2740 Wishes

Monday, January 11, 2010

We can never predict the outcome of our actions,
which is why every action must be acceptable in itself,
and not as part of a stratagem.

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I often wish I could sort search results, especially news articles, by "latest updated". I also wish every web page had a date on it, so you'd know how old the information is.

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Some people seem to consider Harry Reid's comment to be stereotyping and racist. I understand why some people are pushing it - because they hope people who don't think for themselves will think Reid is racist, and they want to hurt his campaign for reelection.

The statement that Obama stood a chance of being elected because he's light and articulate was simple truth. It doesn't show racism on Reid's part, but simply that Reid understands the inherent racism and/or colorism of many voters, and if anyone should be offended, it should be those who would NOT consider voting for a darker candidate. If there was a disrespected target, it was those voters.

I wish people would think before they react.

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Asbestos is being blamed for all kinds of illnesses, from lung and bladder cancer to kidney failure. Class action lawyers have been trolling for plaintiffs for the past fifteen years, and they've expanded the job classifications that would have been exposed to asbestos.

The whole thing ticks me off. It's not like the manufacturers or suppliers of asbestos, or the companies or people who used it, were aware at the time that it was a problem. At the time, it was seen as a Very Good material, because it was safe and fireproof. People my age spent our entire childhood in schools with asbestos ceilings and floors, because it was considered a good thing in schools, because it was fireproof, and our parents demanded it.

Ok, it wasn't such a good idea. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Nobody knew it could cause health issues. That was discovered later (and it's not as widespread or as bad as it's being painted), and I don't agree that people/companies who thought they were doing the right thing should be sued when it turned out to be a bad idea.

If that were so, we should all be allowed to sue our parents for bad decisions.

I wish 'lack of harmful intent' would work as a defense to lawsuits.

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I accidentally landed on a PBS cartoon show this morning. It was supposed to be educational, I suppose, but their teaching method left a lot to be desired. I haven't the faintest idea what age group or educational level it was aimed toward. Anyway, they had a series of dashes that they were filling in with letters to make a phrase. The secret phrase was "growing up". There were secret letters the kids were expected to find. The secret letters were huge, like

M L D

in red, smack in the middle of the screen, in groups of three. Wow. "Did you find them? What letter is this? D! What sound does 'D' make?" At the end, kids who apparently weren't sure what sound "R" makes were eventually expected to sound out "GROWING UP". I began to suspect that there was some other purpose to the whole exercise, other than teaching phonics.

The poor presentation wasn't what bothered me most. They were using "The Ugly Duckling" to illustrate the phrase. You know the story, "There once was an ugly duckling, with feathers all stubby and brown...." That one. The guy that turned into a beautiful swan.

The first thing I noticed was that the ugly duckling had yellow feathers, and the other ducklings were brown. That had to be a conscious choice, because swan cygnets are gray, and domestic duck chicks are more likely to be yellow or white.

I wondered what reaction the PC police would have when the blond yellow duckling turned into the swan.

Then the first three secret letters were shown: "R N P", which I at first read as related to "RNC", and I started laughing.

It was along about then that I noticed that the dotted lines they were plugging the letters into reminded me of "Hangman".

Oh, PBS. I wish folks would review before distribution. And I wish the PC police would stop messing with my brain.
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2741 Idiots United

Saturday, January 9, 2010

It is better to be wanted by the police than not wanted at all.

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I am beginning to find out why so many Meetup organizers burn out after a while.

I'm getting emails that have me beating my head against the wall. I think it's them, not me. For example, the indy theater we go to has a tiny lobby. My event description for the next movie says:

How to find us
"I'll be in the lobby at 2:55 pm, taking our seats at 3:05 for the 3:15 showing. I am under 5' tall, with glasses and shoulder-length almost-white hair. I'll be next to the hot cider - follow your nose."

So, today I got an email from some woman asking where we meet, and at what time.

Duh? She has RSVP'd for the movie, so I know she saw the event description - it's the only way to RSVP.

Then there was the woman who got all pissed off because she was put on a wait list for the singles' dinner. I had limited the dinner to 12, because more than that at dinner is awkward. At the time she RSVP'd, there were 2 Yes, and 10 Maybe. Meetup considers a Maybe to be a potential Yes, so when the limit is reached, new hopefuls are put on a wait list, and Meetup explains to them at that time that as soon as a Maybe changes to a No, they'll be moved to a Yes, starting from the top of the wait list. That's clear, right?

Not to that woman. She fired off a nasty email to me demanding that I explain why I had limited the reservations to 2 (that's TWO), "... I'm sure [name of restaurant] can handle more than TWO people!" She was not nice about it.

What the hell did she think I was doing?

And more. Between the two groups, I have a total of 45 members, and I'm getting emails like those every other day. I can't imagine what it's like for the organizers of groups with 200-300 members.

Meetup sends out reminders a day or two before an event, reminding you to change your Maybe to a Yes or No, so that the organizer has an accurate count, and so that people on the wait list can go if you can't. I've heard over and over from other organizers that most Maybes don't change their RSVP to Yes or No - they seem to think that Maybe means that they can wander in, or not, whatever they feel like - and the no-show rate even on Yes is about one in three or four.

My 50's singles group description says "Open to the 50-and-over crowd, and anyone else who admires mature minds." I got an email today from a new member who says she's actually 49, and asks if that's ok. She was very polite about it, at least. I told her it's more about interests than about years, so welcome to the group.

So far I've politely answered stupid questions. I am going to have to get tougher. I don't need people around me with empty heads and no consideration for others. Three no-shows, and I'll kick you out. One unchanged Maybe will get from me an explanation of what Meetup means. Another unchanged Maybe after that gets you kicked out. And if anyone else sends me questions to which the answer is in the writeup that they apparently didn't read, I'll just send them the link to the writeup and suggest they read it. If that irks them, fine. I don't need them as much as they might need me.

Please, spare me the idiots. Let them start their own group.
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2739 Can you spell "overreaction"?

Friday, January 8, 2010

To know and not to do
is not to know.
-- Wang Yang Ming --

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I found two stories from Wednesday's newspaper amusing.

The Bakersfield airport in California was closed Tuesday when a passenger's suitcase showed traces of TNT during a routine exterior swabbing, and when TSA officials opened the bag, they found five Gatorade bottles filled with an amber fluid. The contents of a bottle were tested, and the resulting fumes nauseated the two TSA agents, sending them to a hospital for treatment.

The contents of the bottles was honey, and nothing but honey.

Can you spell "hysteria"?

Meanwhile, in Minneapolis, a bomb sniffer dog indicated a problem with a suitcase, and parts of the airport were shut down for over an hour while a bomb squad investigated.

The amusing part is that the bag didn't belong to a passenger. Baggage handlers use an old, empty, beat-up suitcase, called a "last bag", to indicate to other handlers that all luggage has been unloaded from a flight - hence, "the last bag". It's just a marker. There was nothing suspicious about it, and no explanation for the dog's reaction.

Can you say "lack of communication"?

In other news, Joan Rivers, of red carpet fame, was denied boarding on the last Continental flight out of Costa Rica last Sunday, because officials found her passport "fishy", because it had two names on it: "Joan Rosenberg AKA Joan Rivers". Rosenberg is her married name. Her daughter had flown out on an earlier flight, and Ms. Rivers was left with only $100, no credit cards or ATM card, and no place to stay. A friendly airport employee drove her 6.5 hours to another airport where she was able to catch a later flight.

Can we talk?

Journalist Michael Yon was handcuffed and arrested at the Seattle airport for refusing to answer questions having nothing to do with security, like how much money he makes. The authorities say he was not "arrested", but, uh, sorry guys, the legal definition of arrested is that you cannot leave when you want to. Some people (including commenters on his post) seem to think that arrest requires charges, but nope. Arrest is when you lose your freedom. Period.**

Can you spell "storm trooper"?

At dinner last evening, we all pretty much agreed that all these stupid, intrusive, sometimes embarrassing security procedures do not make us any safer. They are not designed to catch or deter terrorists - they are designed to make the sheeple THINK they're doing some good. The sole purpose is to make us think somebody is trying.

Michael Totten and I agree that the Israeli methods are the best (http://www.michaeltotten.com/2009/12/profile-me-if-you-must.php). It involves some degree of profiling, very little searching, and a lot of interviewing. And you can keep your shoes on, and nobody will be looking inside your underwear. I have flown El Al, I was interviewed, and it was not nearly as uncomfortable as the American methods, and much more effective. There has never been any kind of terrorist attempt on an Israeli plane, and you've got to admit they've been the biggest target for five decades, at least.

But, as the health care fiasco has proven, Americans aren't interested in real efficiency or effectiveness. They want superficial appearance.

Can you spell "nation of assholes"?

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**From http://legal-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/arrest:

"An arrest may occur (1) by the touching or putting hands on the arrestee; (2) by any act that indicates an intention to take the arrestee into custody and that subjects the arrestee to the actual control and will of the person making the arrest; or (3) by the consent of the person to be arrested. There is no arrest where there is no restraint, and the restraint must be under real or pretended legal authority. However, the detention of a person need not be accompanied by formal words of arrest or a station house booking to constitute an arrest.

The test used to determine whether an arrest took place in a particular case is objective, and it turns on whether a reasonable person under these circumstances would believe he or she was restrained or free to go."

I figure handcuffs equals arrest, unless they don't mind if I leave and wear the handcuffs home.

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Update on the honey scare. There's a good article at http://ow.ly/T54w. The last paragraph, however, tickled me:

"Ramirez told investigators he didn’t know why his bag reacted positively to the swab. He is a gardener by trade, and one inspector speculated fertilizer chemicals might have some of the same components as explosives."

Uh, yeah. No shit, Sherlock. Isn't that what McVeigh used in Oklahoma? Aren't fertilizers full of nitrates/nitrites, and isn't that a major component of TNT? Isn't that what the "N" stands for? Duh?