The ’84 Table

We pulled out the 1984 card table today. Bought in 1984 for less than twenty dollars, this is one of the oldest things we own. Black, we bought it to use as a work space for our first computer and printer. We stuck the table in a corner in the bedroom – we had only one – and loaded the computer up. That computer was a Kaypro IV which, with a dot-matrix printer that used fan-folded paper, cost eighteen hundred dollars.

We’d just returned from a four year assignment to Kadena AB, Okinawa, Japan. Now stationed at Shaw AFB in SC, the computer revolution was pulling us in. The Kaypro was the answer. Running at 4.87 MHz and running dual five and quarter inch floppies, the Kaypro had a nine-inch green screen. We used it for games and wordprocessing. It ran on CPM and used the Perfect series of software. I also used it to learn Basic and a few Basic variations.

The Kaypro was abandoned when we reached Germany in 1985. We bought a Zenith 150 with a color monitor. Still running 4.87, MS-DOS was the operating system. We had 128 KB of RAM and still had two five and a quarter-inch floppies, but I expanded the system, adding CPUs, hard drives, fans, RAM, and eventually a three and a half-inch floppy.

That puppy is gone as well, replaced since by multiple laptops, notebooks, and towers.

We still have that table, though. Pulled it out of its storage in the garage for a picnic. It’s a little worn but that thing hasn’t needed an upgrade yet. It’s been augmented, but never replaced.


Floofaresque (floofinition) – of or relating to rascally or roguish house pets.

In use: “The handsome floofaresque black cat was frequently behind things falling off counters and tables, as well as eaten houseplants and shredded toilet paper, but a look into his golden eyes always dissipated intentions to discipline him.”

Saturday’s Theme Music

A friend mentioned to my spouse that he’d just cleaned his dishwasher filter, and it was disgusting. As we’ve had our dishwasher for twelve years and had never cleaned the filter, we decided it might be prudent to do the same. How hard could it be, I thought with my usual cockiness.

I first consulted the dishwasher’s manual.

There was nothing in it about cleaning the filter. There wasn’t any mention of the filter at all.

Mystified, I went to Maytag’s website. The instructions for cleaning the filter didn’t make sense.

Turning to Youtube, I found an excellent instruction video by Tomahawk, and removed and cleaned our filter. It had some grunge but it was nothing like the one in the video. It took some time to remove some things to get to the filter to remove and clean it, which allowed my mind to stream music. One song streamed was “My Sacrifice” by Creed (2001). While laughing at that choice — look at how I’m sacrificing, cleaning the dishwasher filter — I enjoyed my memory of the song, so I present the song to you.

The Piles of Pennies Dream

Here we go. I remember three dreams from last night, but will only cover part of one dream. Consider this the highlight reel.

I had nothing except the clothes that I wore and had returned to one of the places where I lived as a child. A poor place supported by a dying industry, it wasn’t a hopeful place. Neither child nor mature man, I was a young man in my dream. I knew most of the people in the dream through the business I owned back then, but I knew some from high school.

It was sunny but muddy, and I was scrambling to cope with losing everything. As I began thinking that through, I realized that I did have some small objects. Collecting them, I started carrying them around in my hands. They were mostly watches, keys, and coins.

I knew I couldn’t continue carrying them around in my hands so I acquired a pouch. After I put everything into the pouch, it was full and heavy. Now it needed to be turned into cash that I could use.

The dream went off into a few tangents of me exploring ways that I could make money from knowledge that I had. Nothing panned out, but while going about that, I kept looking for coins on the ground, or on the buildings’ floors as I came and went. Finding dimes, pennies, and quarters, I’d surreptitiously add to my collection.

Then I realized that there were literally piles of pennies outside in the mud. They’d been swept up, or shoveled up into even piles. Everyone was walking around them, dismissive. I thought, they’re walking around a fortune, and they don’t know it. I wanted to acquire some of those pennies and turn them in, but I worried that once I did, others would catch on to what I was doing and start a scramble.

Meanwhile, I cashed in some of my pouch’s contents, including an old wrist-watch. It wasn’t anything special, but the man who bought it said, “I’ve always admired that watch.”

I then sold other things to a shop run by an acquaintance. Having money relieved some anxiety I was feeling. I felt like I could buy food and clothing. After seeing piles of shiny pennies that looked new, I went back and asked him if he converted pennies to dollars. Laughing, he said, “They’re money, aren’t they?” I confirmed that meant, yes. I then converted pennies into dollars from my pouch. Checking on the piles of shiny pennies that remained outside, I began thinking about how to acquire more.

The dream ended.

One area of me was appalled by the greed that I saw in me in the dream, hoarding the pennies for myself. While thinking that, I also recognized, I’m not hoarding them. They’re all there for anyone to take but the others are ignoring them.

Perusing old dream posts and entries in my notebook, I see that I’ve dreamed of mud, pennies, and watches before. Looking up dream meanings for mud, pennies, and watches, I cherry-picked some with positive meanings.

Seeing or stepping on a mud pile means good luck— take advantage of the chances that are coming your way. See Excrement, Manure. Toiling in the mud: success and wealth through hard work.

To see pennies in your dream symbolizes luck, especially if they are shiny. Do not underestimate your talents and abilities. Dreams of pennies occasionally represent a fear of being poor.

To see a watch in your dream signifies luck and prosperity.

h/t to e/

I don’t know what or if (if any) my subconscious mind or restless neurons were trying to tell me, but I elected to apply some cognitive appraisal and decide, it’s all good.



Floofball (floofinition) – 1. A collective term for pets playing with balls or games with pets involving balls. 2. An affectionate term for a silly pet.

In use: “The floofballs loved a good game of floofball, taking turns chasing and wrestling with balls that people rolled across the floor.”

Another Writing Update

Editing and revising continues on Book Three of Incomplete States, a novel titled, Six (with Seven). 

While remaining ambivalent about the title, I’m feeling more attached to it as I edit. I’m ambivalent about it because I conjure negative reactions from others about the title. I imagine that it will sour some because it’s different (gasp). But reading, editing, and revising the book has brought me closer to the title. I understand why that title came to me, and why it works. I also swung back toward ignoring and dismissing the naysayers, which basically goes along the lines, “Fuck you.” I like to think that they’ll be so in love with the series by the third book that they won’t care about the title.

See? I can be an dewy-eyed optimist.

Editing and revising Six (with Seven) hasn’t been all coffee and cookies. One chapter obviously needed major reconstruction. I struggled to fix it for several days. Then, one morning, I opened it and realized, the chapter didn’t work because everything had evolved away from it. It’d been an early, exploratory chapter. Now, it didn’t fit.

It still took some time to cut it. I liked the characters and the writing. It was damn prettified. I also worried that I was cutting it out of expediency. The muses didn’t agree, so I cut it. I saved it…just in case.

Once that chapter was removed, everything else fit together like fine tongue-and-groove construction. I loped through several chapters a day. It’s a fine thing to enjoy what you’ve written.

Enough patting myself on the back. Coffee has been downed, but this is free refills Friday. Time to write edit like crazy, at least one more time.

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