Category: miscellaneous

Fresh WP Frustrations

I don’t know, maybe WP has reached a limit on tags for me. Maybe it’s my ‘puter. Could be a technology curse, I suppose.

When I go to add ‘new tags’, WordPress burps. My cursor is bounced out of the box, and the new tag vanishes. Perplexing. I don’t experience this on other web sites.

Then again, my system was just updated last night. You know how updates sometimes go sideways with small matters.

My work-around was to save the draft, swing over to the iPad mini, and edit the post to add the tags in Jetpack.

Just more first world blues.

11

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Dad’s 92nd birthday is Wednesday. Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ll be calling her tomorrow, so I called Dad today, as I’ll be pretty busy Wed. with planned surgery.

Dad and I had one of the best chats I recall having with him. We chatted about aging, financing, and Mom. Very satisfying.

Dad has always been a level guy, staying mellow, keeping things in the moment. He’s never gotten too worked up over any of life’s tumbles and twists. And he’s been through his share.

He’s in okay health. Had some stents put into his coronary arteries some years ago. Suffers some COPD. Went through some edema issues twice. Now he’s on a low sodium diet. A cane is employed to walk around. He sometimes needs a walker.

But we laughed a lot about these things which happen to us as we get older.

2

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Spent part of yesterday & today answering friends’ call for help.

Short story: someone was on the net and was duped into some ‘click here’ bait. A warning sprang up with an number and a directive: call here for help. Social engineering took over after that.

Sometime in the course of being fleeced, the user awoke to something nefarious happening and shut it down. The resulting question was: how bad was it?

He called his daughter and SIL in LA for help. They enlisted my assistance as hands and eyes on the infected machine. I picked it up, did some top level examination of what’d been downloaded, installed, and accessed. Worse culprit was the Supremo app. That’s an app that let’s others remotely access and control the machine. Downloaded but never installed, I trashed that thing.

Then I set it up so that the SIL had remote access by installing an IT app that he requested I install. He sorted through files to confirm nothing had been seriously compromised. Some banking log in information had been compromised. Fortunately, the new location wasn’t recognized and the log in was challenged and denied. That two-factor authentication paid off.

Bottom line: fresh and clever scams are out there. While others have tricked people with banking issues or special offers, this friend was tricked into clicking on an offer to see what new childhood classmates had been found. On my end, I was tricked through a offer for flowrs for Mom’s birthday.

With so many scams hitting us, remember to be careful out there.

1

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

I witnessed a coffee house conversation that threatened to escalate into violence.

It was a mildly busy day as people gathered and socialized with pleasant autumn weather outside. Many were bent over phones, laptops, or notebooks.

One table hosted an octet of chatting women not far from me. Their age hovered around my own, which is to say sixty to seventy-five years young. They were mostly laughing and talking about books. Somehow their conversation rolled into the important question everyone wants to know, “How much paste should you put on your toothbrush?”

I haven’t read any books on the subject, and I didn’t study it in school, but I agreed with one brunette woman. She said, “Oh, I read that you just need a dab. Especially with an electric toothbrush.”

“No, no, no,” a red-haired woman erupted. “That is wrong. You need to cover the bristles from end to end with paste.”

Coffee shop conversations dropped off a cliff. Focus went to the table of women.

Other women at the table started disagreeing with paste woman. You’d think they were assaulting her grand toddler from her reaction. Voice rising into a screech, she declared, “No! No!” It was like she was channeling Khruschev addressing the United Nations. “The paste must be on all of the bristles! Anything else is wrong!”

I expected a duel to erupt. Pistols at twenty feet on the sunlit sidewalk outside.

Maybe she’d had too much caffeine. Maybe she didn’t have enough. The other women, wide-eyed with alarm, were backing down fast, trying to placate the redhead before she whipped out a sword to defend her toothpaste position.

Thank God they weren’t discussing politics.

1

Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

If I were religious or ascribed to a diety, I’d say that they might be pissed after Trump’s Micky D Sunday stunt. First there was an E. Coli Outbreak, forcing them to pull quarter pounders. Next came some crashing stock.

All started with Trump’s appearance there. Just sayin’. Also, as others noted, while Trump wore an apron, he didn’t have the rest of the required gear, like hairnets. Just sayin’.

Of course, under the Trump administration and Project 2025’s goal to reduce regulations, this sort of things might happen more often. Just sayin’.

Vote blue.

2

The Trump Dream

It was a wild night of dreams. The final remembered one was one of those types of dreams where it was like a movie. I was watching and removed, but also knew myself as a character.

In this case, I as Donald J. Trump. Yes, that guy.

Except, I was a little person.

I was Donald J. Trump as a little person, mango hue and all, wearing a poorly fitting blue suit with a long red tie.

To open, there had been murders. The police were questioning me (Donald Trump) and others about the murder. I was the murderer, but I was fooling the detectives. I thought I was getting away with it. So, I turned my back to the investigative scene and smirked with pleasure because I was going free. But I still eavesdropped on what was being said behind me about possible new evidence.

I, Donald J. Trump, murderer, had overlooked some potentially incriminating evidence. But knowing where it was I quickly stole away.

Moving casually but fast, I hustled along the small town’s winding roads until I reached a broad pond with a rocky shore. Three elderly men were in a small rowboat just off shore. They were drinking whiskey from bottles. Further out on an outcrop of rocks was a clear plastic toilet bag. Inside it were some small plastic bottles. I knew my DNA was on that bag. It would link me to one of the murders.

Noises were coming up from behind. A black female detective was striding forward. I called out to the three men in the boat in my Trump voice, “Excuse me, fellows, can you do me a favor? Can you reach over to that rock, get that bag, and toss it back to me?”

Number one, I was wearing white gloves, and pointed at the bag as I spoke. Two, the men were a little inebriated. My request needed to be repeated clarified. Understanding and agreement came. They rowed over and got the toilet bag.

But the detective had come up by now. A look of pure evil overtaking my expression, I called to the men, “Just drop that in the water, okay?”

The detective called out, “That’s evidence in a murder case. Please be careful and bring it to me.”

One of the men was holding the bag aloft. He looked from me (Trump) to the detective and back to me. Then he let go of the bag.

Plop it went into the water. The men chuckled.

Smirking, I said, “Thank you, fellows,” and walked away on my short legs.

I’d gotten away with it.

Dream end.

2

Something Else

The signs of aging pile up,

Promising on some days to beat you up.

Hair losses, hair changes, where the hell does it go?

Why can’t I get it to look right, why won’t it look just so?

Sometimes you ponder the person you had been.

You think you see them staring back, hiding from within.

Other times you wonder, if you ever were that way?

And if you were, what can you do to look that way again?

The weight you gain, how the body thickens,

Everything sinks and sags and generally looks in ways that sicken.

Then someone tells you how great you look,

and you wonder, is that a joke?

If you think I look good today, you want to say,

you should have seen me back in the day.

I was something else.

3

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

My computer was struck by one of those scams that declare my computer was infected. Which was BS. Easy enough to spot them because they’re a phishing effort to get you to download something or call someone, and they put multiple popups up. Anyone who has dealt with a true anti-virus program and a real virus knows that’s not how these things go down.

Anyway, I use several browsers on my ‘puter. This one struck Chrome. That made it easier to get rid of. Just a quick and simple reset took care of that. Worse part of that was the time it took to reset, and it signed me out of everything. But those are small struggles compared to the annoyance of having those fake things trying to instill fear in me. See, that’s how they play: trying to make you afraid of what has happened.

Just like at a Trump rally.

5

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Back in the day…

Such a broad, specific expression. Back in the day for me is specific to a time period for me and others of my age, but when you’re a different age, well, back in the day is a different time.

Quick sidebar: while the youngest generations take up the expression, or will back in the day fade away?

Well, back in the day, it was easy to keep up on the news. Read a newspaper, turn on one of the big three network’s nightly news offering, and watch the local news.

Complications arose with the information age explosion and the digital age tsunami. Suddenly, I’m clicking on a story and there’s ten thousand variations on it. What was said, who said it, and what does it mean? You click and read and click, chasing the crumbs to learn what’s right.

Tough work these days, keeping up on truth and facts, and dodging lies and misinformation.

0

DIY Update

I realized that I never issued a DIY update on my HVAC.

Background, the AC had ceased. I checked the usual issues and found nada. The A/C capacitator worked. 240 was reaching the unit. Nothing was coming from the thermostat.

After replacing the furnace’s stepdown transformer for the furnace and the furnace control panel and seeing no success, I tested the furnace cover’s safety switch. No power there. I tested the power into the junction box. No power.

The switch for the furnace is mounted on the wall not far from the furnace, right above the entrance into the space as you climb up the ladder from the garage. Not an easy access space. To check that box, I’d need to throw the circuit breaker for the furnace. That would kill any useful light in the attic space.

I mounted my trouble light up there on a rafter. Connecting it with an extension cord, I plugged it into a garage wall socket below. Light was restored. My largest concern was that my right ankle would roll on me while I was standing on the ladder. Although I wore a brace on it, it weighed on my mind. I imagined it rolling and toppling off the ladder. Such an imagination. I should write fiction.

Pulling the cover off the switch, I discovered the quick connects in it fried. Replacing the unit was short work after purchasing a new one.

Job done. Just in time for cold nights and morning. Really satisfying to hear that furnace start and run.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑