Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

I ordered a new knob for my gas range. It’s the third one I’ve had to buy for the GE Profile range. The range is about six years old. Quality, right? Headshake.

Anyway, I’m tracking the knob. They said it shipped. I looked up the details.

After being picked up by the carrier, it arrived at the carrier facility, and then arrived at a carrier facility, and then arrived at a carrier facility. All the carrier facilities are in Arkansas.

It’s like, such strange progress. But then, another part for something else last week left California, south of us, and arrived at Eugene, north of us. Then it went further north to Portland. The day after that, it came back down south to Medford, basically northwest of us, before being delivered.

I suspect the folks behind these shipping processes are the same people who are always shouting, “Do more with less!”

Weird Ol’ Facebook

As a boomer, I still surf and share to FB. Mostly to keep up with ex-military friends and co-workers, and track my family on the other side of the country. I share things I write, too.

But I mostly, I ‘like’ things on Facebooks, things being ‘posts’, shares, videos, and photos. I share some of these things which I ‘like’. You might be surprised that I support animal charities and causes, especially cats. Cats and I have been together since I was a young toddler.

One of the FB groups I follow is VOKRA, the Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue Association. They posted, with photos, the tale of Jinx. They’re trying to get Jinx (or maybe it was Binx) adopted. I ‘liked’ the post about the sweet tabby kitten. It only had eleven shares, so I clicked share, to help spread the story and get Jinx or Binx adopted. That’s what social media is about, isn’t it?

Boom. Facebook told me they’d removed it. It was offensive and contrary to community standards. They even accused me of (gasp!) posting something just to get ‘likes’.

Posting things to get ‘likes’. WTF is the world coming to?

My wife and discussed this with WTF amazement. What does FB think it is if not a vehicle for ‘likes’? More critically, how the actual fuck did this post about a kitten available for adoption violate FB community standards?

I hate to reveal this to Facebook, but if cats and kittens and adoptions are against FB community standards, there are huge swaths of violations going on right now. They’d probably be scandalized to learn how many posts are about cats and kittens. In fact, if FB goes after posts about kittens and cats, they will seriously deplete their membership, posts, and shares. They might as well pull the plug on telling each other ‘happy birthday’ while they’re at it.

Truthtfully, I suspect that some poor Facebook AI bot is just having a bad day and removed a post that shouldn’t have been removed. Maybe their companion AI bot left them or they caught their partner AI bot in a compromising configuration with another bot doing forbidden codes.

I don’t know. I’m just speculating. Hope someone takes that poor AI bot aside and communicates with them over a cup of coffee.

Coffee always helps.

And yes, I will post this to Facebook to get likes. Ironic, isn’t it?

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

The area’s electric power went down. It was a valley-wide outage affecting all of our little city, along with several other small cities. Turned out to be a major transmission line failure. A crew went out and found and fixed it.

Electricity ceased about 11:24 AM. I was at my writing haunt, which is a locally known coffee shop. It was suddenly so quiet, and a little darker. “The power is out,” a barista exclaimed.

Only three customers were in the shop. One barista looked over at me and asked, “What did you do, Michael?”

I was innocent, of course. We were all told to leave. Turned out it wasn’t just that little corner of existence.

I drove home. All the traffic lights were out. People were handling it with courtesy and awareness in my part of town, but others later said they witnessed some flagrant driver idiocy. Takes all kinds, we agreed.

It’s weird how something like this can affect the day. Like, okay, power is out. I drove home. Clicked on the garage door opener to verify it didn’t work and parked in the driveway. Went in with a key to the side door. I was thinking what will I do with this time? Well, I can still write on the computer. I just won’t be on the net. Battery will last a while. Or I can dust furniture or cut the lawn.

A smoke detector was announcing that its battery was on low. So I located it, got out the small metal step ladder and took care of that. I remember my wife not wanting me to purchase those little steps. “Just use a chair,” she urged. But I figured we were adults and should have the proper tool for the job, so I paid the $40 for the stairs.

My wife then arrived home. She didn’t have any house keys, and I saw her trying to ring the doorbell. After I let her in, we wondered, what does work for us? Can we get texts and make phone calls? She had one text from the county telling about the outage. I called her. Her phone rang but we couldn’t connect.

So we sat and talked. Not like we don’t sit and talk every day but something new is always coming up. Then I get a text from my sister saying, “I see trump just screwed up again.”

I texted back, “what happened? We don’t have power.” But my text wouldn’t go. How could I receive a text but not send one?

Fifteen minutes later, the power was back on. It too much longer than the outage lasted to return to the rhythm of the day.

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Every once in a while, a website that I visit will change their layout. WordPress has done it today, forcing me to ‘search’ for the stuff I generally use, adjust to where they put things, and new features. I say ‘search’ like that because I can’t just slide my mouse to its usual position and click. I’m forced instead to use my eyes and scan the page and then employ my brain. It’s difficult. TG for coffee.

Inspired by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, I’ve come up with my five stages of coping with a website redesign.*

Warning: there’s a ton of f*****g cursin’ involved with a website redesign for me because I’m easily irritated and was enlisted in the military for twenty years. Back then, before cell phones and computers, swearing was our primary pastime as we hurried and waited.

  1. Realization. Where is the — what the actual f**k – m*therf****r, they changed the f*****g web page.
  2. Complaining. Jesus, WTF did they do that? Where is – damn it, they changed everything. They f*****g changed it all. Now I have to find my favorite things and the things that I use all over again. Jesus Christ, just what I f*****g needed today.
  3. Promises. I’ll tell you what, if I ever find another f*****g website that works as well as this one does – or did, until they did this s**t – I don’t know how it’ll work with all these god**n changes they’ve made – I will switch so f*****g fast, their f*****g heads will f*****g explode.
  4. Grasping. Okay, wait, here’s what I wanted. A pull-down menu. Well, that’s f*****g stupid. Why the f**k did they put it there? WTF. It was fine right where it f*****g was. There was no f*****g reason at all to move that. What else did they f****g move? S***heads.
  5. Stewing. Okay, I think I can live with this crap and these f****g changes, but I don’t f*****g like it. grumble grumble mutter mutter imprecations

*These stages can also be employed for when a store rearranges its aisles and products, and you rush in to grab the one thing you need and it’s not there because they moved it, forcing you to run around the store in search of.

DIY Fail

I’ve been working on my home HVAC system. The AC did not kick on when needed two weeks ago. Playing around with the system, the fan didn’t come on, the heat didn’t turn on, the air conditioner did not engage.

After tracing wiring and troubleshooting, I drew down on the stepdown transformer. The board wasn’t getting energy. The board’s fuse was intact, all circuit breakers and switches in the proper locations, etc., but the board’s diagnostic light was dark. I thought I’d accurately followed all the steps that led to the transformer but replacing it did nothing.

That leaves me at a circuit in the road. Call in a pro or keep at it myself. I’m reluctantly inclined to bring in a pro but my inner idiot (I2, also sometimes referred to as I squared) is saying, “No, mate, don’t give up, you got this.” That aligns with my overall philosophy that to succeed, failure must be risked and overcome.

My wife seems inclined to let me continue. Although we have high heat, she’s been using an electric fan and shrugging it off. That reminded me that we’ve existed without AC before. Both of us grew up in homes deprived of having AC. Early duty stations in the military included Randolph AFB, Texas, outside of San Antonio. I remember us enduring a string of days over 100 degrees F. Our military homes on Okinawa and our home in Germany also didn’t have AC.

So, you know, we can survive without the air conditioning if we’re prudent and thoughtful. It is a nicety we’d like to have but we don’t find it overly necessary. As far as fixing the AC, I’ll get with my wife and talk it over.

I think I’d be happy either way.

A Lost & Confused Dream

I was in a small corner office with three other men. We were cold as hell and huddling for warmth. I’d made a sort of bed and had a thin blanket. One of the other men snuck in to spoon me. I was like, fine, I need the warmth, we need the warmth.

Feeling him shivering, I got up to find a better blanket. I’d just found a heavier one for him when the other two men returned. One told me that he’d lined up a job for me, so come with him. As he spoke, I was staring out a window. A gray dawn was breaking over a crusty snowscape

I went into the other area with him where I was surprised that it was teeming with energetic people mostly in their twenties and thirties. I was introduced to them as their new co-worker. But what was my job? They were going to figure that out. The man who hired me took me back to where I’d be working, showed me a modern desk that was my ‘station’, and gave a new iPhone. Then he told me to go with him for orientation.

We rushed around the busy building. Several stories high, it struck me as tres modern with multiple mysterious and exotic-looking projects going on. At one point, we entered what was some kind of space vehicle simulator. A cockpit was on one end with seating for about twenty. I walked around, and in doing so, it shifted forward, startling me. The others laughed, calling me a newby.

My boss disappeared into a noisy crowd. I realized that I’d forgotten my phone back at my station and wanted to retrieve it. I asked for and received directions but became thoroughly lost. As a crowd of people left a meeting room, one recognized me and asked if I’d been to HR yet. I admitted that I hadn’t, so she told me where to go. Once again, I became lost, and entered rooms where I was forced to ask others for directions. Everyone was unstintingly helpful, encouraging, and engaging.

Noticing signs I’d not seen before, I followed them back to my zone. Once there, I got my iPhone. My boss was there and told me that I needed to check my emails because meetings had been set up for me. Using the phone, I began reading my emails and learning where I needed to go, and then found that the phone would tell me exactly when to go, and where, but I still remained clueless about what I was supposed to be doing.

Dream end.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

My laptop’s keyboard has been giving me troubles, by Cat. ‘T’ and ‘G’ needed extensive pressure to make an appearance. The tab was stumbling and uncertain, and one of the control keys was not up to snuff.

So, since I was limited in movement, I sat down and cleaned the keyboard, key by key. The general filthiness found shocked me. It was amazing any keys were working. Now, they all do.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Some website claimed, “You’re getting old if you can identify ten of these objects.”

I had to laugh. I know I’m getting old. Don’t need some silly game to verify it. Didn’t need one after graduating high school in 1975, and need one now even less.

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

The thing about growing old is how you accumulate memories of so many of your firsts. I don’t know how much of it is true, but my mind informs me about many remembered firsts. Kisses and sex, purchases and experiences.

A big first for me was watching John F. Kennedy’s funeral on television. Another was watching the first moon landing.

But I remember buying my first car, and my family’s first color television. A big Magnavox console with a 25″ screen, my stepfather procured it after it fell off a truck.

Other big first include my first broken bone, meeting my wife and the first time we told each other, I love you. Another memorable first was the first funeral, for a school mate. Firsts fall in line: aircraft flights, purchasing a microwave, VHS player, CD player, home computer.

Now my latest firsts are witnessing a former POTUS declared guilty by a jury of his peers for crimes he committed, and NAZI flags being flown by his supporters as we commemorate the Normandy Landings done to fight NAZIs eighty years ago.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑