Are we having fun yet?

last week—August 19

Last Wednesday, there was a well-publicized total eclipse of the sun, visible in most of Western Europe. We tried to watch it on CNN, but the eclipse was a backdrop for the incessant chattering of commentators spread across the landscape in the eclipse's path. In addition to never sticking with any one location through to totality, the commentators prattled on about how awe-inspiring the event that we wouldn't be seeing was, and how nature would fall silent, except undoubtedly for the face-flapping commentators who thought we were all tuned in to listen to them, and see their silhouettes in half-darkness.

Thursday was Thursday the 13th, which doesn't sound nearly as threatening as Friday the 13th, no doubt because of the moderating effects of the pleasant alliteration.

We are become our parents.

PBS has been raising money this week, which means we've been subjected to a large number of music shows. In the past, they leaned heavily on do-wop, soft rock and soul acts from the 50s and early 60s. This time, though, they moved forward in time. Billy Joel. Willie Nelson. Neil Dimond. Dolly Parton. Woodstock. Prince. David Bowie. The Stones. Fleetwood Mac. Tina Turner. Acts I heard the first time around.

The good news: lots of good music. The bad: yep. Old, old, old.

+ one letter.

I was reading an article by Joanna Stern about using A.I. In it, she mentioned using it 'on the roads.' My brain immediately cued Willie's classic, but then hit pause when it realized that Joanna said 'roads.'

It's interesting how much difference a letter can make. In Willie's telling, he's on a single, determined path, moving toward a specific destination. We probably think of our lives that way—a single continuous trail that we have determined, chosen and follow.

But Stern's phrase raises all sorts of interesting reinterpretations. Each one of us is on multiple paths, going in different directions, with different starting and stopping points, sometimes self-determined, sometimes imposed by family, work, faith, or a perceived need. Sometimes they run in parallel, sometimes overlapping, sometimes tangled, sometimes conflicting. Much messier, but depending upon your personality type, potentially much more interesting and a source of personal growth.

Gotta let you know.

A group of academics are writing an open source American history book called The American Yawp. The little bit I've read so far is clear, balanced, and well written, easily accessible to your average high-school student or someone who needs a refresher in parts of American history.

What I found particularly interesting was their collection of contemporary (to the time) supplemental documents for each period covered. There are official documents, of course, but also poetry, literature, essays, and speeches. I've bookmarked it for those times (Sarcasm alert!) when I run out of things to read.

Warning to writers.

One of the documents included in The American Yawp Reader is Charlotte Perkins Gilman's Why I wrote 'The Yellow Wall Paper.' In it, she tells of her own near breakdown and how, as part of the cure, her doctor told her to never write again, which made her crazier. Just goes to show.

I wonder how many literary classics and other works of art have been lost to 'doctor's orders.'

A new model for endorsements?

Yahoo! reports Trump Endorses Missing N.J. Congressman Who Hasn't Been Seen in 3 Months.

Step 1: Find out who's been MIA the longest. Step 2: Endorse them.

Boy howdy, just imagine the endorsements Mitch McConnell would get if he was running.

Where do I sign up?

BBC reports on The people lost in addictive daydreams.

That sounds like fun. So I read a little, and 1. they make it sound like a bad thing (at least, 'maladaptive' gives that impression), and 2. I may have had them for a while now.

No mention of Walter Mitty.

Back in the day.

My brother-in-law called last Saturday morning. No reason—just catching up.

I know this is not why he called at that time, but it put me in mind of the special rates that long-distance calling companies offered in the 90s for 'off-peak' calling during nights and weekends.

It's not a big deal, but that's something you're not likely to see in those 'everyone did these 30 things in the 90s' posts on the intranet. Actually, long-distance calling companies probably won't make any lists either. Nor a practice called slamming.

Audience, people. Audience.

The noon news features a trivia question about weather or other vaguely meteorological matters.

Today's question, about where you would find 'cat clouds,' had three choices: in the mountains. the seashore. or the desert.

Unsurprisingly, the anchor got it wrong, as cat clouds are formed in the mountains, and the highest point in the Norfolk area is about 37 feet above sea level.

I think we were set up to fail.

I'm sure I could look it up, but...

Unbidden this morning, on his 5am run, my muse dropped the word 'Maidenhead' into my brain.

He can be a real S.O.B., my muse.

Anyway, I know that, in addition to referring to a woman who still has her virginity, Maidenhead is a town in England, but beyond that, I know nothing, including:

  • what a resident of Maidenhead is called. Maidenheadian? Maidenheader? Maidenheadite?
  • how the town acquired its name, and if it has a nickname.

I am naturally a curious person, but I think I've already expended enough brain power on Gabriel's little joke.


For whom does the mantis pray?

two weeks ago—August 12

Updating old favorites.

Todd Henry, has been mentioned here for a long time (Accidental Creative and Daily Creative podcasts, and Die Empty).

Well, I had a little lapse with following Todd, and when I returned I found a new (actually, revived) podcast, Herding Tigers. There was some very interesting information in there. Now, the thing is that Todd is not talking to me—I'm not a leader. But that doesn't mean I can't take away useful information. In this case, he's talking about how to lead a team of creatives with different work methods and goals. As he says, everyone on your team is optimizing for something, whether stability, autonomy, recognition, craft, or efficiency.

For me, the big takeaway was identifying (and working with) different creatives, each of whom has their own goal. It may not be a common task, or a universal goal, but there are still tips for accommodating different procedures and workflows.

Age alterations.

I never particularly liked the classic icebreaker, 'what do you do?' It seemed so limiting–the answer was related to job, or some relatively safe topic. Even asking a follow-on question like 'Wow! I've never met an actuary before! What's involved in that?' keeps lots of potential topics off the table.

Now that I've reached the somewhat advanced age of three-quarters of a century +, and retired, I don't even have that job thing as a fallback. Fortunately, I don't get out much anymore, and usually when I do, I find myself in situations where I'm in a group that was brought together for a common purpose: a class, say, or a gallery opening, or it's people I already know, so icebreaker topics are pre-established.

But still, I need an icebreaker for those times I'm out being social in new territory, 'what did you do for work seems like a so last century, rear view mirror kind of a question. So the search goes on for something that gets to the core of a person without being too threatening or intrusive. 'Are you creative?' won't work. At least I don't want to answer it. Saying yes, even though true, smacks of arrogance. Answering no, although properly modest, doesn't do anything about pushing the conversation forward. And saying 'yes, I write,' would probably lead to a question like, 'have I read anything you written?' and bring on a full-bore panic attack, or say 'I have a website–from a comfy chair,' knowing that's just a way of shifting the 'no' from me to them. Either way, s conversation stopper.

But I'm getting closer. I realize that sometimes, if I reveal that I write, the person asking will follow up with 'what do you write?' Smart people might ask, 'why do you write?' The correct, satisfying answer is, 'Because it makes me happy.'

So I'm now trying to get an icebreaker question based on open-ended happy zone. What I have so far is:

  • where do you find joy/happiness?
  • what makes you happy/joyful?

The problem with these two questions is they both sort of imply that the source of happiness and joy is external. And in my limited experience, it's important to internalize happiness for it to be fruitful. Like writing. The happiness is in the writing, and that's all inside. The happiness is also in the process, not the product. Like the Founding Fathers knew, and they guaranteed 'the pursuit of happiness,' not happiness itself, is the thing. An 'external locus' is all about the product, and implies that the receiver has no control over happiness—or destiny.

Another path to follow would be to ask 'what excites you?' or 'what are you enthusiastic about?' Again, it's open-ended, and you can tell some things about the respondent by how quickly or enthusiastically the response comes. Even the dark side (a dull response or no response) lets you know some things.

It's a start, but the search continues. Wish me luck.

Wish list item.

How good an idea isThe Hall of (Pretty) Good? It's such a good idea I wish I had thought of it.

C'mon, archeologists.

A headline in the Wall Street Journal informs us that Neanderthals performed root canals, study finds.

The article leads (yeah, I read the article. I was interested. Sue me.) with a comment by the author that implied the procedure would have been painful, seeing how Neanderthals wouldn't have had painkillers to use during the procedure.

It would be nice sometime to see an archeologist admit, 'we dunno,' or maybe just not yap on about their presumptions, or making things up. They forget that they only have access to a tiny part of the picture, the part that gets left behind. So they're missing out basically on almost all organic material, soft tissue, and various chemicals and drugs. They have no idea what colors animals were, or what our ancestors used for pain relief, in religious rituals, or partying.

There's so many things that scientists don't know, can't explain, but still feel the need to explain that what's right there in front of their eyes, like Gobekli Tepe, can't really be there because, well, c'mon, you know, they were hunter-gathers, for crying out loud! At least they're willing to concede the existence of a dentist 50,000 years ago, if not that they might have had a little something to lessen if not relieve pain, too.

Seems a little arrogant and short sighted, if you ask me. A dangerous combination, especially when they have to backtrack and can only hope that people won't remember how badly they screwed up in the first place.

I'm not even going to get into the whole Pareidolia 'it looks like the root canals we do so therefore it must be a root canal' thing.


Today in travel: Too many cars. Not enough road.

three weeks ago—August 5

At last!

After years of seeing rent-a-scooters parked in random places like at the crest of bridges or on a corner nowhere near a residence or store, we finally had someone park one in the street in front of our house. No idea who, or why, but there it is. Be interesting to see how long it stays there.

Update: Unlike the bridge scooters which will sit there for days, ours was gone in just over two hours.

New conversations.

One satirical line used to be having two executives talking and one saying, 'I'll have my people talk to your people.'

Well, in the age of artificial stupidity killing human jobs, it's no surprise when The Wall Street Journal can trumpet Young adults now let AI do their talking.

So, ladies and gentlemen, update your 'Business Protocol Phrase Book' to 'I'll have my AI talk to your AI.'

Are these still things?

  • non-fungible tokens, or NFTs
  • air fryers
  • spin classes and/or Pelotons
  • jetted, Jacuzzi-style tubs.

On the flip side, hacky-sacks are once again a thing.

Shout at, not out.

And speaking of AS, let's look at the OG AS for a moment. My relationship with Siri has been, let us say, fractious. I asked her to do something simple. She refused. So I stopped asking. Siri doesn't like to be ignored, apparently, because she then popped up randomly, unbidden, freezing activity until she was dismissed.

Finally I had enough, and decided it was time for 'Siri-enasia,' and shut it down. But all is not calm and bright, as a window sometimes pops up, unbidden, asking if I want to turn Siri back on.

I think we all know the answer to that. All, that is, except Siri.

Things I did not know.

The line Be afraid. Be very afraid (which I use semi-regularly) is from the 1986 remake of The Fly.

Questions, we get questions.

Like this one: Brittany, the teenage babysitter from next door, watches our two daughters two nights a week while I work at my third, 'making ends meet' job. Recently she said her rates were going up due to 'increased fuel costs.' I have three questions: 1) Am I being scammed? 2) Do I now have to file a 1099 with the IRS? 3) Is there someplace I can recapture or get a rebate for increased fuel costs?

I said we get questions. Didn't say I answered them.

Disasters redefined.

We recently passed the tenth anniversary of the mass carnage at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, where 49 people were killed. It was just one of many mass shootings where dozens of people lost their lives.

Most occurred pre-pandemic. Sandy Hook. Virginia Beach. Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School. Las Vegas. Uvalde is one exception, having occurred 'only' four years ago.

I find it interesting how many of the 'perps' cite Columbine as a model or inspiration. I wonder if part of our problem is continued publicity about events, and not so much the event itself.

Still, we receive regular reports of 'mass casualty incidents,' but as often as not, there are often barely enough people killed and wounded to qualify as a mass event. Oddly enough though, we should count this as good news. For whatever reason–better preparation, better safeguards, more education, earlier warnings, fewer people are dying in these events. Also, the decrease in size of mass events seems to parallel decreases in violent crime.

No reason to decrease vigilance, but still heartening.

Is that all you got?

A headline in the Wall Street Journal reports The stock market's fear gauge is faulty.

Of course it is. Anything built on a combinatIon of the Chicken Little Index and the 'wolf-crying boy' predictor is guaranteed to be faulty. What is surprising is someone applying The Emperor's Wardrobe Observation to it.

What I want to know is if there are any other gauges Wall Street employs, specifically, is there anything not built on fear, bad news, doom, at at least something that recognizes there are rays of sunshine out there peeking through the ominous dark gray clouds. There used to be one–the hemline height predictor–but I haven't heard that one mentioned in a long time.

Grapefruit.

I don't know if I'm just not paying attention, but beyond eating it raw, juicing it, or broiling it, there's not much you seem to be able to do with grapefruit. Other fruits go into pies, cakes, muffins, preserves, dried, and even fruit congeals and jello molds. Except for preserves, nobody seems to do much with grapefruit. It's ignored.

But there is one area where grapefruit has achieved recognition, and that's in the area of 'medication avoidance.' Advertisements for certain anti-depression medications often specify users 'should not eat grapefruit.'

Every time, I wonder 'why grapefruit?' Why is grapefruit the only citrus fruit singled out? Is there something about grapefruit that makes it more attractive to those suffering from depression?

But I haven't seen those advertisements recently. Did they tweak the medication to remove the conflict? Did they bioengineer the grapefruit to remove the offending compounds? Or did they just switch to advertising newer, more profitable drugs?


The last working oil well in Chester, TX

four weeks ago—July 29

Thought.

The leaves of the camilla closest to the house are a darker green than the bright green leaves where the sun is shining through. They make a nice contrast to the dark green of the oak tree across the street and to the brilliant blue sky that fills the rest of the scene framed by the window.

It is high noon.

Which raises the question, why isn't it called 'low 6' or 'high midnight' (sorry stupid question–midnight has a time stamp built into its name)? But why does 'noon;' need 'high' attached? And why do only 'the twelves' have names?

Fun fact.

So, at 5 a.m. my semi-sleeping brain asked the rest of my brain how loud two machines, each cranking out 50db, would sound to the naked ear. The rest of my brain replied, 'I dunno. I'm trying to get some sleep here. Shut up.'

The correct answer is 53db, which should be a lot more fun than it actually is.

Stop and think time.

Nikki Giovanni provides STT with the opening lines of her poem A historical footnote to consider only when all else fails:

While it is true
(though only in a factual sense)

While it is tempting to go with the obvious where else truth exists besides facts, I'm a little more interested in the selection process for choosing the historical footnote.

Padding the list.

Certain professions really should see the wizard for a brain. Real Simple provides Exhibit A as they detail 8 Things You Should Never Store in Your Bedroom Closet, According to Organizers.

'Food' is number 4. 'Shoes' is number 1 (apparently shoes should go at the door, creating visual clutter, and a real problem if you have more than one door you use). And three items that you should not put in your closet are—clothes.

Gonna be lots of space in there.

News flash! Rocket scientists take over running major retailers!

For some reason, it was left to Men's Journal to tell us Major Retail Chains Like Walmart Are Reducing Self-Checkouts for Better Customer Service.

Surprise, surprise! Retailers finally figured out that customers didn't like being hectored by the most annoying robot voice possible to 'put the item in the bag.' Instead, customers like leaving the chore of scanning and putting items in bags to professionals. Smiles are optional–nice if you get 'em, OK if you don't.

I'm sure that self-checkout seeming to be a major contributor to 'inventory shrinkage' has ' nothing to do with the decision to go back to cashiers. Nothing! It's all about customer satisfaction. Really!

More sciencey stuff!

The wall Street Journal tells us Scientists have figured out how fast the universe is expanding.

The answer? 46 miles per second, which I will grant you is more precise than my answer of 'very,' but not by much.

Key takeaways:

  • Objects recede faster as they become more distant. Anyone who has lost control of a three-year-old toddler will confirm this observation.
  • The rate is mind-boggling small. It would take a football field a million years to expand by one inch. In other words, objects in an expanding galaxy could not beat a Chevy Corvette in a street race.
  • Anomalies in calculations can be explained by 'dark matter' and 'dark energy,' neither of which we can perceive or measure. We dare you to prove the darks don't exist. So nyaaah!
  • The universe will cease in 46 trillion years. Please excuse me if I'm not at the afterparty.

Misreading it.

I regularly mangle the written word, extracting meaning that is nothing at all like the author intended. For example, I recently 'saw' a headline that said 'Rock legend dead at last.' What happened was I kinda left some words out, like 79 and Last song, so I didn't read Rock legend dead at 79: 'Last song...' Although the way music legends are hanging on these days (see: Keith Richards, Barry Gibb, Grace Slick, Ringo Starr, Willie Nelson), it's an understandable mistake.

It also brings to mind this snippet of dialogue from Monty Python and the Holy Grail: 'Bring out your dead!' 'But I'm not dead yet!'

I don't see what the problem is.

For a very short season, Indian mangoes are available in the United States. They are popular and sell out quickly.

One importer complains, The problem is that the mango boxes come and they get sold out.

Or, what other retailers call success.

Random observations.

God does His best work in the gaps and spaces and voids of our lives.

Why is it our visions of hell are excruciatingly detailed, including the tortures we will suffer, even the environment almost to the degree, while our visions of heaven are fuzzy at best?

Another thing about those ghost shows.

I've already mentioned my annoyances with ghost shows. But here's another—why are there never any animal ghosts on these shows?

You know they have to be there, especially in a residence. Why are there no sudden heavy weights in a lap, indicating Mittens' ghost has settled in for a nap? Or a nudge on the knee (or worse, in the crotch) from a spectral Spot, who wants his head scratched? Or the sounds of a food dish being pushed across the floor by a playful phantasm puppy?

Linguistic wonderment.

In English, we have many familials, the names we call parents and grandparents when we are children.

I wonder if the same thing applies in other languages.