Of Mice and Men

I looked up and it’s been one year to the day when I started this blog. The weight of family commitments, along with a sudden rush of age has swamped my desire to post daily insights. I have kept up with my weekly posts to the 100 word stories and have started a weekly Sherlock Holmes story. I’ve entered my second dream semester at the college which may turn out to be a swan song. In fact swan songs seem to be piling up around me. And that might be the grist for the blogging mill. Stay tuned night people.

did i miss me

i took a banker’s holiday. dreamed up new ways to mess with dem pesty 99 %ers. not really. just  spent all weekends driving down to fremont. you lose 50 hours out of your week somethings got to give. a bunch of cool things happen over the last 30 days. I’ll fill you all in over, the next 30 days. the reason for the extend driving is due to a change in my wife’s sister’s health. find discussing ongoing illness as tiring. unless it makes a good story i try not to dwell. losing power must post before pad goes dark

oh my

It has started to rain

I Can’t Feel My Fingers

Time to get down to business with this touch pad. Push every button, pull down every menu, and go over the settings. Try out a few apps. Get email working, and all the social media stuff. What’s that in the corner, Angry Birds, oh no. I know where this is going. Eight hours later only a low battery indicator stopped me. I went thought the first 65 levels. I found myself laughing out loud and swearing at the pad.  I’m developing gamer’s forefinger (had packman thumb in the 80s) Got my first golden egg. Oh food, that’s a good idea.

Be the First Kid on Your Block

I have come to believe I’ve finally become the Fat Happy American I’ve rail against for decades. You know the folk too busy watching the timer countdown on the microwave they didn’t notice the banking class fleecing their grandchildren future. I bought a Touch Pad at Costco (could stop there argue won).  After spending a few hours with the thing, I discovered I can’t hold the thing upright for more then 10 minute. I think what’s this compared to digging ditches or hauling brick for eight hours. If the weight doesn’t come down Pad will go the way of PDAs.

Ouch

I’m lazy. In a sort of domestic way. There is a clothes-line umbrella on the deck in a box. The 7 foot chicken wire works good enough for me. UNTILL, today. While grabbing a bed sheet my thumb caught the place on the pole where rusted unevenly wire lie in wait. Now I got red spackled bed sheets. Ripped the thumb on three different planes. I do excel at person destruction.  My hand is warped in band aids which make typing a bit hard. If I die of lockjaw (does anyone ever die of lockjaw) you can have my room.

Beware a Comely Smile

People are pretty damn good at perceiving danger. A guy screaming waving a knife, no brainier there. But the more subtle, thus most dangerous is a Person of Possibility. They smile, talk calmly in a slow even tones. They point out your voice is a tenor. You point out “Tenor is not a voice. Tenor is a disease!” They laugh, and reroute to the good work the choir is doing. Suddenly the danger is apparent the person of possibility is drawing you into a purpose of process. A joyful need is a snarl laced with iron bands of goodwill. Rrrruuunnnn!

I should walk

The summer is over. It’s getting cooler. It’s time to start walking. I’m 20 pounds over I can barely see my feet. There is a pile of blue jeans which I can no longer engage the snap. Oh the days of 30 – 31s now its 35, no make that 36. It might be smart to reduce or re-relegate the calories, but no bread, no cheese, no anything. Think I will start out slow, work my way up to the treadmill of death. When I’m in the zone I can do 5.2 on the mill. Just get out the door. RIGHT

Butt Dialing

As tech savvy as I am I’m still have a devil of time pushing the right buttons on my droid. The screen lock only seems to work to prevent me from answering an in-come call. It doesn’t seem to stop the droid from make a call to the last person in the history list. When the lab tech showed up to tell me my butt just call her up is the time I started reading the manual. Boy this thing can do some pretty neat some. Still it feels like assembling a ship inside a bottle. I live to recharge.

A1:G8

I love spreadsheets. In the 80s there was a small company in the Valley, needed beta tests for a program. They wanted totally clueless folk, I qualified.  That program became VisiCalc. Later when we got a computer (that’s another story) my partner in crime got us a copy of VisiCalc for our  sort of Apple IIe (that’s another story). I’ve run lotus, Quattro Pro, Spinnaker, and PFS. I tend to build spreadsheets to do less then useful things. I got a Magic 8 ball worksheet and a Kevin Costner Automatic Indian Namer. I have one that actual writes bat poetry.