Category: technology

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: positive

Let’s close our eyes and bow our heads; September, 2023, is passing. Today is Saturday, September 30, 2023. A fresh month — October — begins tomorrow.

“Alexa, weather,” I say.

“It’s 49 degrees in Ashland. Today’s high will be 62 degrees. Today’s forecast includes showers.”

I’m boiling her response down. Alexa is one of three sources for my daily weather info. The other two are my home system and wunderground.com online. I also often scan MSN’s weather forecast for us.

I do this because we’re located on the fringe of a small town, about three and a half miles long, with a population of about 20,000. I live on the southern end. The town is in a valley alongside Interstate 5. The southern end is where the valley pinches together and becomes a pass. For all these reasons, getting precise weather forecasts is troublesome. We’re usually a few degrees warmer than the forecast in the summer and a few degrees colder in fall and winter.

I don’t doubt Alexa’s forecast for today. It rained off and on through the night. Rainclouds are as thick as a Black Friday shopping crowd. Those clouds don’t look like they’re going to wander off without dropping more rain on us.

The cats are happier and more mellow with this weather. Both come in for shelter, washing before napping. Papi’s preference is the master bed where I keep a folded blanket at the foot for the cats. Tucker will used that at night, but it’s Papi’s during the daytime. Tucker prefers being with us in the daytime. He’ll haunt the desk in the snug, sleeping to the right of me, shoving around papers and rearranging equipment. I enjoy having him there, with his cute little black and white face and long, whirly whiskers at repose as he sleeps.

My wife and I have plans for the evening. Scienceworks is doing an outdoor showing of the movie E.T. Show starts at 6:30 PM. There will be food and beverage trucks, along with an ice cream truck.

Forecasts for that period tell us it’ll be colder by then, and it’ll be raining. Should be fun.

My wife particularly wants to go because she only saw E.T. once. This was when we were stationed on Okinawa, Japan. We saw a VHS bootleg copy of the movie, and the production values were terrible. Bootleg copies of films and TV shows was how we saw a lot of things in those pre-net, pre satellite TV days. Phoning home was still a major production that required us to go to the USO and use one of their expensive long-distance lines.

Well, with talk of “phone home” and memories of the way it was in 1982, Les Neurons have cranked up ELO’s 1977 song, “Telephone Line” for the morning mental music stream (Trademark fantasy). Makes sense, and I will allow it.

Stay pos and be cool, and strong. I’m refreshing my coffee — do you want a topoff? Here’s the music. Let the real day commence. Cheers

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I was in the Pittsburgh International Airport baggage area, awaiting our luggage’s arrival as though they’re rare precious animals. We’ve already taken the first needed steps after a long flight of relieving our bowels.

It’s weirdly quiet here; sounds echo in the tall, wide chamber. Other passengers sprinkle in , surrounding the system like an army laying siege to a fort. We’re all cold, with postures as though we’re huddling. Airport A/Cs are usually set low enough to preserve popsicles.

I recognize fellow travelers, such as the tall elderly man who wobbled slowly up the jetway, and the young Japanese woman in colorful fleece pants and jacket who appears as if she’s walking while asleep. Most people are silent as they wait, checking messges or reading emails on their phones; a few start talking on cell phones, giving all of us broad strokes about where they’re at, where they’re going, what’s next for them.

A harsh buzzer bellows. The red light on its single metal tube begins spinning. Mechanical grinding and groaning rises. The metallic system commences its hurried orbit around the central chute.

We watch and wait, watch and wait, arms crossed, sighing, coughing, as the belt goes around bereft of bags. Of course, it’s the end of a journey for the bags, too. Hundreds of yards away, they left the aircraft and are traveling the system. It’s supposed to go faster than the passengers, so the passengers don’t need to wait.

That has yet to happen at any airport I’ve ever used in the United States. At last comes the thump announcing the first bag. A red hard-sided piece slides down the chute with a hiss. We crane forward to see the lucky person who claims the first bag.

It isn’t me. My bag is black, I remind myself. My wife’s bag is brown leather. Sighing, I cross my arms and look forward to the next bag, watching as it bumps along, waiting for its person to show, feeling dismayed as more bags are claimed and the others trot away. Then, finally, a flush of triumph; our bags have cometh.

Bags claimed with grunts of exertion, we hustle on to the journey’s next stage: the rental car counter. There is some relief that all has gone well. I feel myself shedding travel anxiety. Every step has the potential to disrupt safe and succeful travel. Knock wood, it’s gone well for us.

We leave the baggage area tired but smiling, pressing back into the terminal against the flow of people coming down to find their bags. Good luck, I think to them.

Good luck.

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Automotive Issues

I had car problems this week. They look like they’re now resolved, but a comment by a friend reminded me of a surprising recent trend, at least locally.

Three friends all had cars with a cracked windshield this year: Ford, Subaru, Toyota. None knew how the windshields broke, they just noticed cracks which were getting bigger. For each, it meant getting the windshield replaced, which was a high price and lengthy time, especially for the Toyota. Windshields are infrequently just a glass piece these days. They often have electronics and sensors embedded in them, or they’re linked to systems. Replacement requires a special machine and a specially trained individual to take out the old and put in the new and connect and calibrate everything. The machine required to replace the Toyota windshield was broken and required specialized repairs, which took months. In the case of the Ford, the specialist was out for a few weeks for reasons unknown.

I remember the old days, when a guy came to our house and replaced the windshield in an hour in the garage. My, how times have changed.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I find myself part of a new breed, one that looks at the activity tracker on their wrist and then taps it to reach a specific piece of desired information or function. I think I’ll call folks like me ‘wrist-tappers’. Maybe just tappers.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sour

Saturday is being served in Ashlandia, where it’s warm and getting hot. Not 110 F hot, no, none of that crazy stuff here today, just 96 today, 100 tomorrow, 103 Monday, and so on for the week.

It’s August 12, 2023, and this is when the region usually heats up in the year, so we’re not surprised. We metaphorically hold our breath and cross our fingers that some wildfires don’t arise from the heat and dry conditions. We’re not special with this high hot so far as the US. Over in Texas, they’re in the hundreds all over the state. Northern California will lounge in low triple digit heat, as will parts of Nevada, southern California, and New Mexico. Of course, in Hawaii, they’re literally on fire in several areas. Then my sister sent me notice that a house in one of the neighborhoods not far from her in the Plum area outside Pittsburgh PA exploded and a house is on fire. You feel for the people of that neighborhood.

And then I went on and caught up on Ukraine news.

Reading the news and weather reports brought my spirits down. More killin’, of course, and lots of general craziness being reported out there. The Neurons delivered “Crazy On You” by Heart to the morning mental music stream (Trademark crazy). The song is a classic rock offering from waaay baaack in 1976. Wow, that’s a thought that momentarily makes me feel ancient.

Then I think, hey, 1976 wasn’t even fifty years ago, so it’s not really that long ago, right? Yes, the optimistic Neurons reply, bobbing their heads. Then I think, and isn’t it cool that this music style was discovered? Isn’t it terrific that we have so many talented people in the world? And, hey, we have the technology to bring these stuff to us across time, although this recording is of a performance Heart did just a few years ago.

But then I think, gosh, with the brains for such technology to be advanced, shouldn’t we be able to solve other problems?

How do you solve a problem like a human? Tech doesn’t seem to be the answer there.

Okay, let’s get on with the day. It’s not going to live itself. Stay pos and be strong. Coffee is available in the kitchen. I got enough in there for at least one other cup. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Dishwasher DYI

TL/DR: fixed the dishwasher by taking some of it apart and testing and cleaning things.

“Look at this,” my wife stormed. “These dishes are not clean.” Profanity followed. I think she’s been around me for too many years.

Yes, our GE Profile dishwasher has been giving us poor results a lot recently. It’s six years old but we generally only run it once or twice a week. Which, actually, could be bad for it. I learned from research this week that some systems use a count to recalibrate things.

I found and wrote down the model number and serial number. More research was done. Youtube videos were studied. We ran the machine for troubleshooting. Hot tip: with our machine, at least, there’s no need to run an entire cycle. If that’s not desired, just use whatever cancel feature is set up on your machine. With our machine, turn the start button on as if we’re going to start it, then hold the start button in for more than three seconds. When that happens, the cycle is canceled and the pumps drain the dishwasher.

Our symptoms beyond dirty dishes emerging from the clean cycle was also the soap not getting fully used/dissolved or even dispensed from its compartment on the door. Not to blow my own coronet, but we’re frulk (shorthand for frugal folk) and buy our dishwasher pods at Costco. But doing research, it appeared that the upper and lower arms might not be spinning.

To test the arms, it’s recommended that you note the arms’ positions (some companies refer to the arms as wands) and run the dishwasher for several minutes. You then interrupt the cycle, open the door and see if the arms have moved.

No. They hadn’t.

Next step is a little trickier. There’s a door latch sensor, I guess you call it at the top center of the dishwasher opening. Slipping a long but slender screwdriver in and holding the door open permitted me to see if the arms were spraying at all, or if anything was spraying, in fact. ‘Nother hot tip: if you do this method, make sure you’re ready for a little water to the face if the spray arms are working. Also be ready to pull the screwdriver back fast.

From all of the research and pondering, including listening to it, I concluded that I had to put the diverter assembly. In point of fact, it would be the last thing we did. Our DW uses a four port diverter with two tiny magnets. If they get gnarly, they can cause a problem.

So I removed the racks. We have three: a bottom one with the utensil basket, a top silverware drawer, and the middle rack, with bottle washers. The middle rack was a challenge. It’s an adjustable one and doesn’t use the standard end clips or levers. Instead, two hex screws, one on either side of the rack on the raise/lower mechanism, hold it in place, 7/16″ in a tight, tight spot. Once they’re removed, tabs are slipped out on either side, and then the drawer is pushed backward to clear quarter inch pegs.

After the racks were taken out, I removed the lower arm (turn the plastic locking mech to the left), unclipped and removed the water conduits, unscrewed and removed the micro filter, and then the macro filter. Now I could get to the diverter assembly, which sits in the bottom of the DW basin, in the middle. Two screws secure it. A third, which holds the water conduit to the utensil basket in place, had to be removed to free that conduit so that I could turn and free the diverter.

With all that done, I took a toothbrush and liquid dish soap and cleaned it all. I ran water through the wands and conduits to ensure they weren’t clogged or blocked. Then it was all put back together and a test conducted.

Yes, I put the screwdriver into the latch.

Yeah, I got a face full of warm water and water across the kitchen floor. But I laughed because it looked like success. I put the arms into a parallel position, noted that, and ran it again for a few minutes.

And yep, they were moving, baby.

It felt good to fix something again, but this one had my back and neck complaining after I was forced to work on my knees, bending in and reaching across the DW basin to undo things, remove them, and then put them back. After finishing, I told my wife, “Baby, I’m starting to feel like I’m beginning to get old.”

She replied, “You’re JUST STARTING to feel that?”

Yeah, I laughed.

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m beginning a new DYI. Our GE Profile dishwasher stopped delivering the desired efficacy. Six years old, though, very old in modern appliance age, I guess it’s showing its age. Troubleshooting was done last night and I think I’ve identified the problem. Repair plans are in place for later today. Since the dishes were still dirty after three washings, my wife and removed the dishes. She washed them, then we dried and put them away.

I remembered when Mom bought her first dishwasher. A white portable unit with a faux blonde wood top. This was in the late sixties when we lived on Laurie Drive in Penn Hills, PA. Purchased from Sears, I think it was a Kenmore but I’m not pos.

The dishwasher was on wheels. She parked it over beside the backdoor where its top was useful for storing napkin holders and the salt and pepper shaker, along with pens and a notepad for the phone. Cherry red, the phone had been updated to a pushbutton device. Hung on the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, the phone had an extra long cord which let Mom cradle it against her ear as she cleaned, cooked, or sat at the dining room table or in the living room.

Her new dishwasher really pleased Mom. She employed it every night after dinner. Eventually life forced her to move, several times as it turned out as fortunes waxed and waned. Eventually the dishwasher was sold. She lamented its absence and when she finally bought a house for herself a decade later, my sisters and I came together and bought her a new portable dishwasher. Eventually, my brothers-in-law, both in construction, renovated her house for her, including the kitchen, and the dishwasher was installed under the sink, where it remains.

As I remembered all this and talked with my wife, she pointed out that her Mom never had a dishwasher. Always did it by hand. We often ‘did the dishes’ as it’s phrased when we were visiting.

Funny thing about dishwasher one and two. Neither gave her any problems through all those years, even though that second one has now been in service for almost thirty years.

Different times, friends, different times.

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Lost Button

Where is my button?

I can’t find it now.

Don’t know where to eat, what to eat,

And I’m beginning to forget how.

Where is my button?

How do I get through the day?

What will I do when others come around,

Asking me to play?

Without my button, I don’t know where to go,

I have nothing smart to say.

Oh, where is my button?

How did I lose it this way?

People say they never used to have them,

But that cannot be true.

How did they know how to dress,

How to act, what to learn,

Without a button to show the truth?

Oh, where is my button?

It’s driving me insane.

How can I be me, without my button to say?

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Friday’s Wandering Thought

Amazon Marketing was either housed a low level of intelligence or a superior sense of irony and humor. He liked researching things on Amazon. It was the best reason for the site’s existence. Once he finished his research, he usually bought things elsewhere. Say, 9 out of 10 times. But after a few days, Amazon inevitably sent him an email featuring the thing he’d researched, proclaiming, “We found something you might like.” Yeah, you think that, Amazon? Do you think I’ll like it because it was what I was looking at on your site two days ago?

Yes, either impressively stupid or outrageously ironic and funny.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Today is Tuesday, May 23, 2024. Like many days which ends with a y, the weather surprised us again. Beautiful sun. Yeah, baby, because it’s bright, but not too hot. Yes, as if the sun changes temperature, right? No, that’s the pesky air and ground changing temps. Today features cool air with a wickedly chill wind. Feels like we’re back to mid-spring now. It’s 46 F but the weather chanters tell us Ashlandia’s high will be in the low seventies. If true, and that wind’s influence dips, it’ll be a gorgeous day. Am I right?

In bummer news, people continue to steal books from little libraries in Ashlandia. I assume it’s people. I suppose it could be animals. Maybe the bears, foxes, and cougars who wander the streets stopped to check out a little library. Maybe they assumed snacks were in there. So they stopped and were like, “Hey, these are books.” Then they took off to read later. I don’t think the raccoons, cats, and dogs are doing this. They’re more familiar with human ways and books.

In local election news, as measure 15-214 trails by 41 votes, it appears it has lost. Nothing official yet. Won’t be official until June. This year.

The mayor and other proponents made comments about what we now can’t afford as a city — like filling vacant police and fire positions — because the measure, which would have given all the revenue from a tax we have on food and beverage the the parks and recs division, has failed. More people on both sides of the issue are nonplussed about the comments, because things like that were never mentioned in the race. A growing majority are asking how and why she’s saying this. Like me, they want to know why this was never mentioned when the measure was being discussed. Focus was always on why the parks needed that money, and other things about the parks, its budget, and its previous surplus that disappeared. Thus, the mayor’s comments struck me as bullshit.

Dreams inspired The Neurons for their song choice today. Apparently. I went through the night’s dream, then left bed and started the daily process. Somewhere along the early stages of feeding the cats, “No Spoken Word” by Stevie Nicks manifested in the morning mental music stream. So, I suspect the dreams were responsible. Can’t connect the dots yet.

The song has that sound and feel to many mid/late 1980 rock & pop offerings. The drum, rhythm, instruments, style. Hear a song like that, and there we are, in the late 1980s, heading to the video store for something to watch, cursing cable TV — all them channels and nothing on — and talking politics, maybe Iran-Contra as it emerged on the scene, or those new things coming out, the Internet and the world wide web. Back then, they were saying that every home would soon have a computer in it. Many scoffed and laughed at the idea…

Stay pos, and use some situational awareness as you navigate Tuesday’s waters. Coffee is being consumed. Drink it if you got it. Here’s the music. Cheers

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