Category: miscellaneous

The Writing Moment

I feel liberated. Released. Like I’ve been locked up in a building and now the doors have been opened and I can go anywhere.

Yeah. Finished the first draft of another novel.

I also feel humbled and happy. Satisfied.

I struggled with finishing. Kept running into a wall with where those final chapters would go. I had to reach the odd realization and understanding that the character is not me. The character had much more to give, more to use. They understood things that I did not. I just had to let go and accept that. Once that finally took place, the ending fell into place, and here we are.

Now it must be edited, revised, etc. But the storyteller is free to start another tale. Almost as if signaled, I saw something and a new adventure began taking shape.

As it’s always been.

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Alternate Realities

This is not a review but a brief commentary about Barbie.

I did an informal poll last night when sitting with my beer gang. These are generally enlightened and educated, elderly men and women — our youngest is 61, and I’m in the middle at 67 — who retired from professions as university professors, botanists, biologists, medical doctors, NASA scientists, aerospace engineers, high school teachers, database administrators, software engineers, and forensics scientists. Yes, we have at least two of each in our group. They’re all ‘woke’ to various degrees. None of the women were there last night, just the men.

So I did a survey. I was surprised that none had seen the Barbie movie, and only one wanted to see it. All of them enthused about Oppenheimer, though.

I’d seen Barbie and enjoyed it. I had moderate interest in the doll’s story and the battles against the patriarchy — though very real — and matriarchy, toxic masculinity, and false choices dumped on people because of gender. No, my thing was the alternate realities aspects, the other existence where Barbie and Ken and their brethren resided, versus our reality.

I’ve always been a sucker for these. Loved Pleasantville for that reason, along with Men In Black, the original Matrix, Flash Gordon, 12 Monkeys, Ground Hog Day, Inception, and the whole Doctor Who series. Add Stranger Things, The Umbrella Academy, Good Omens, and Papergirls to the list of worthy TV series about other dimensions. I’ve probably forgotten same, but want to stress, these are not about alternate history or future science fiction. The core of these offerings to me must be that these movies and television shows actively involve other dimensions. Things are happening there. Those involved in our reality don’t know it, but are solidly face-planted into the other reality and must cope with the new reality that there are other realities. I love the genre because it challenges our certitude about reality, which I find rude, arrogant, and short-sighted. Of course, that approach works for most, so, shrug.

Barbie worked for me for that reason. Besides solid acting and production values, the expected jokes and observations about genitals and identity, the paradigm shifts faced were clearly exposed. There was a too neat, too clean resolution to that — but, hey, it’s a comedy — and a I-can-skip-the-lecture at the end delivered by Rhea Perlman as Barbie’s inventor, but it was solid fun about realities colliding.

I recommend the movie and pity those who won’t see it for whatever premature reason they’ve devised. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Monday found me helping my wife deliver food to elderly, incapacitated, and disabled people, part of a community effort. Someone does it everyday Monday through Friday. Meals are provided for weekends and holidays on request as part of the system.

We were delivering six frozen meals to a new person on the route. We were instructed to call him first, to let him know we were on the way. He came out of his house as we pulled into his driveway. Obese, on oxygen, in a wheelchair, he looked about fifty years old, at least ten years younger than me.

Sad and shocked, I wondered about the circumstances of luck, genetics, work, and habits that brought the guy to that point. Most of life seems like a lottery, and the health lottery seems like the cruelest and most random of all.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Sometimes, there’s just a vibe.

A woman walked toward him. Something about her brought up a smile. “Good afternoon,” he said. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing great. How are you?”

“I’m also doing great, thank you.”

“Good,” she answered.

They passed, going in opposite directions. Both looked back over their shoulder at the other, and smiled.

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Moo-day’s Theme Music

Mood: a bouncing flow of changing lights and colors.

He said, “It’s Monday.”

And all the cows sang, “Moo-day.”

Which left him speechless.

Yes, we’re on the Monday segment of the seven day perpetual merry-go-round. Never stops. Never pauses. Might slow or speed up. Actually, it might stop but we might all lose consciousness when that happens because having time stopped doesn’t fit with the mold of our existence.

Today is August 7, 2023. Politics are still on my mind. Can’t help it. I read political news and it swats me over the head again, again, again. I think, I want to know what others are thinking. I don’t understand their conclusions. But I try, and I fail. We are realities apart on some matters. Not going into more than that today.

Weather is same as it was yesterday — blue, 68 F, high of 86 F.

Had an uncomfortable night. Kicked in with a dream festival. It ended suddenly when the smoke detector started chirping about the need for a new battery at 3 AM. Said detector is located on a hiiiigh ceiling in the master BR. No ladder in my possession is tall enough. But I have a ladder that will reach a ledge (yes, the bedroom has a ledge on the high end), and then I can stand on the ledge and change it. Wasn’t doing that at 3 AM, though. Also, didn’t have any 9 volt batteries on hand. Used the last one in the multimeter for another project last week. So, off to the store I go today.

But first, it’s time to deliver for food and friends one more time. We’re due to leave for that in a few. My wife has returned from exercising and is sipping her fresh coffee. Love that smell. I’m two-thirds through my first cuppa.

Thinking about going to the store, I thought, I need to go today but maybe I’ll go again tomorrow. Just thoughts about what I needed to buy, wanted to buy, and the balancing of activities and priorities. From that blend of thinking, The Neurons introduced Stevie Nicks and “Edge of Seventeen” into the morning mental music stream (trademark locked down). Makes sense; there’s a line in the song which states, “I went today, maybe I will go again tomorrow.”

Stay pos and upright, motor on into the distance. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel. Let’s do this. Here’s the video. Cheers

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A/C DIY Completed

I finished another DIY project — a repair — yesterday but I made several errors with this one. I’ll go into those. I want to also mention that I stayed overly zealous about throwing circuit breakers, ensuring everything was off, and cautiously touching wires. I won’t dwell on it, but I took constant steps to stay safe and unharmed. I was messing with 240 V a lot of times, and I stayed respectful of that.

Our air conditioning went out. Fortunately, the weather here hasn’t been too hot this year; we’ve yet to break 100 degrees F, and temperatures have been dropping into the upper 50s/low 60s at night. We also haven’t been inundated with wildfire smoke, so the air remains relatively clean, fresh, and healthy. It’s a mighty confluence of good fortune. We’re able to open doors and windows at night and in the morning to air the house out, dropping the inside temperatures to about 72 F. We just need to be aware of wildlife like skunks, raccoons, bears, deer, and cougars in the area, and make sure none of them wander in. Then we close almost all back up for the day, including the blinds, and keep the house cool. This works pretty well; it rarely pops over 82 F in the house, and that feels oddly comfortable. We do have a fan that we’ll kick on if we feel the need.

But one day, my wife said, “Turn on the air,” and I did, and it didn’t. The house blower went on but there was nothing from the condenser or fan. I immediately said, “Capacitor.” It’s gone out twice in the seventeen years we’ve owned the house, which was bought new. I ordered a new one, turned off the circuit breakers, pulled the A/C switch, removed the panel, and replaced the capacitor. All good, right?

No. I inspected the capacitor. Didn’t see any swelling or anything unusual. Wires were all connected. Hmmm.

Continuing on my mistake-strewn path, I powered the unit up and manually pressed the connector’s pull in. Power to the unit. Condenser and fan went on.

Well, damn. A bad connecter then? I ordered a new one and duly installed it. No change. Say what? I’d photographed the wires before swapping the part and poured over them now, ensuring I had them all right and secure. They were. Nuts.

Well, then, it must be the thermostat.

I’d replaced it last year. Maybe I’d done something wrong. I checked all of its wiring. Everything was correctly connected and tight. I replaced the batteries so they were new. No change.

I started searching the net for what the heck was wrong. This is something I should have done in the beginning. Pulling out the multimeter, I checked power at the unit — yep, 240 running into it, no surprise, as it fired before. No low voltage going into the connecter.

Whaaat?

The wires all looked good. Connections were solid, but nothing registered. Nothing. No damage visible. No nests, spiders, or insects. No traces of mice. Huh.

Back at the thermostat, I placed my probes against the red (power) and yellow (cooling) wires. 24 volts.

Then it must be on the furnace control board.

Nuts.

We have a side mounted furnace. It’s up in the attic above the garage. It’s a low, hot space. I dislike going up there and working on the furnace. It means pulling the car out, and using two ladders. One must be climbed to remove the access panel, but that ladder isn’t tall enough for me to safely climb and get up into the space. I must use a second, taller ladder, putting it into the access panel’s open space to climb up into the attic.

The furnace’s control board’s green light was lit but blinking. That’s how it usually is. I removed the access panel with the idea of checking all the wires. Yep, five into the thermostat connections, just as shown on the videos. Second was the fuse. Fuse was great. Next, I was going to check the low voltage power out of the stepdown transformer. As I was approaching that, I noticed a wire not connected to anything.

A yellow wire.

Now, you might think that’s obvious. In hindsight, it is. But there’s a large coil of installed but unused wires up there. That gave me uncertainty; maybe it wasn’t meant to be used.

I was thinking about all I learned but I still had just a nascent understanding of everything. Back down I went to videos. I really enjoy the Word of Advice series on Youtube. He’s patient and thorough.

I watched his video on the control board’s fuse because he was talking in general about the control board and all the wires and their purposes. And he said, “There should be five wires going in for the thermostat and two going out to the outside unit.”

Ding.

I had one going out. The blue one. No yellow one connected.

Power was cut and the connection was made. Success was achieved. The condenser and fan fired up and the house cooled.

Everything was reinstalled, closed up, and powered up. Success, but it was sloppy and haphazard. I should have been methodically testing and studying and not leaping to conclusions without testing. Lesson learned, I hope.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

“Ready to leave?” he asked.

Nodding, walking past, she replied, “I just need to visit the bathroom real quick.”

“Hopefully, it’ll just be a wee wait.” He chuckled to himself, delighted and appalled by his silly play on words.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s microexistence is Sunday, Aug 6, 2023. I’m in Ashlandia, where the deer eat everything and many people are annoyed. 70 F now, the bottom line for how high the temperature will go is 89. Sunset and sunrise are now contracting our daylight hours. We’re pushing through August. September lurks, waiting to hustle in autumn for us.

Another night of riotous dreaming was experienced. The most surprising one had me as a young gunman trapped in a suburban house with three others. We had automatic weapons and were in this situation because we’d shot and killed another young man, apparently in conjunction with a gang feud. Now, trapped, we decided we were going to break out blazing and make, a shoot and run to escape. Corporeal I was protesting my dream I’s thinking and behavior, cursing him for being a fool, urging him not to do it. But whatever I urged him not to do, he did it anyway, damn him. Real me couldn’t stop dream me. I twice forced a redo, but it went the same. It felt like the dream scene was my subterranean neurons cooking up a movie to show my battle between different sides of my self.

I awoke, thinking about that dream and others, and ended up ceiling staring in thought. Running with that cue, Der Neurons started streaming “Brian Wilson” by the Bare Naked Ladies (1992) in the morning mental music stream (trademark existential). At least I readily knew the connection this time. One line goes, “So I’m lying here, staring at the ceiling.” Okay, well done, Neurons. Take a mental bow.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of when my wife and I married. Totally other existence when we did, when we were young in 1975. Been a bumpy road. Almost went over a few cliffs. I enjoy her company and have great admiration for who she is. I think she likes me, too, although I exasperate her. Well, she does exasperate me as well. Love is a spectrum, as is hate — hell, marriage and all the emotions are spectrums. We constantly slide back and forth, finding and losing balance, opening and closing the distance between us.

Stay pos, be strong, find the course and follow it, correcting as is needed. Coffee has already slipped past the guards and is supplying The Neurons with needed energy reinforcements. Let’s hear some music.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

He’s in the coffee shop restroom. It has an electronic lock. Press in the code to enter. Each button beeps. Press another button when you’re inside to secure it. A red light means it’s locked.

He can hear someone entering the code. Alarm ticking up, he watches the door. Did he lock it?

His worry amuses him. What will they see? A white man sitting on a toilet. They’ll see his pale thighs. Oh, no!

Inner laughter rolls. It’s the one who walks in on him who will suffer at that sight.

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