Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

Mom and sis are coping and adjusting, per usual. Mom is an interesting case. When she’s doing well, she’s happy on her own. When she’s doing poorly, she gets crabby and wants visitors. But her crabbiness repels people, so they stay away. Not a good dynamic.

So many things must be tended for Mom. The emptying and cleaning of her house, of course, and then putting it on the market. Those are expected, straightforward, but work. The matters causing the most headaches and frustrations are these modern matters. Changing phone plans because Mom’s phone was on Frank’s plan. Canceling her internet and cable. Those things were done online, through passwords and account numbers and usernames and things like that. Mom has it written down but it’s all been changed so many times because they changed systems or the passwords expired, or it didn’t work for God knows why, as Mom would say.

Then there are the prescription drugs. Sam’s Club is Mom’s pharmacy. Frank was her delivery system. Now sis is her delivery system, but sis doesn’t have the time to make regular runs like Frank did. These things can be delivered but the co-pay must be paid for. Does Mom have a credit card on file? Yes, she does, she says, no, you don’t, the pharmacy replies. Back and forth they go, driving sis insane.

It all makes me think. Mom is but twenty years older than me, and the way my health is trending…LOL. I think, I must be better prepared. Sure, passwords are written down and secured but they must be found by whoever is taking care of me at that point.

Maybe it’ll be AI or a bot assisting me by that point. A Medibot. Watching AI and bots in action at this stage, though, I’m not reassured. Maybe, maybe, they’ll have it worked out in twenty years.

Time will tell. Always does, doesn’t it?

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

I have been reminded of how privileged I am. How easily I succumb to convenience.

I’m back in my regular drive. Mazda CX-5. Nothing fancy, we’ve had it for ten years. It’s packed 64,000 miles around its waist. The thing about this, though, are the automatic creature comfort features. And the key.

When we were visiting family in the Pittsburgh, PA, region, we trundled around in an older Toyota RAV4. Fine car but nothing special. But it lacked things like a key FOB that let me unlock doors just by pressing a button as I walked up to the car. The FOB permits me to start the Mazda without taking the key out of my pocket.

Man, did I miss that. I ended up putting the RAV4 keys in and out, out and in of pockets multiple times across the day. Oh, the horrors, right? But see, this is a matter of connections. With the FOB, I stick it in my left pants pocket and leave it there. With this RAV4 key, I was constantly putting it into a pocket or setting it down somewhere and then asking myself, where is that fucking key?

Wife and I approach car. It’s cold. About 40 F. Gray, with a light drizzle falling.

ME: “Wait.”

“What?”

“I can’t find the key.”

Wife stands, stares, waiting, not tapping her foot but looking like she’s on the verge.

Pockets are patted and felt, squeezed, then reached into it. “Here it is.”

My wife’s restrained look called me IDIOT so loudly, it hurt my brain.

One time I got out of the car to put gas into it. When I returned, it’s like, OMG, where is that damn key? Pat pockets again and again, dive into them…”Oh, here it is.” Damn it.

It was one of those big, long keys on a clunky handle. The key itself could be swung close to make it ‘more compact’. That was good because otherwise that thing gets caught on clothing. You press a button to flick it out, like a switchblade knife. This all required additional thinking about what I was doing, soaking up Neurons’ limited attention.

Me: “Where’s the key?”

Neurons: “We don’t know.”

Me, looking around and feeling pockets. “No one knows?”

Neurons: “We weren’t pay attention.”

Me: “Here it is.”

The button is clicked. The long key extends. I unlock the door. Put the key back into pocket. Get into car. Go to start it by putting my foot on the brake and pressing a button. The button is missing.

Neurons: “Dude, what are you doing?”

Me: “Trying to start the car.”

“You need the key. You must put it in the ignition and turn it.”

“Oh, yeah. Where’s the key?”

Neurons: “We don’t know.”

Thank tech that I’m back home where I just stick the FOB into my pocket and forget it.

I’m very, very good at forgetting.

Tech Phone

Suzanne’s post about her phone trying to … Well, I don’t want to spoil it. Her post had me laughing with sufficient joy that I had to share it with my wife. Partly it’s because Suzanne is a wonderful writer and this is hilarious, but also because we’ve experienced these things with our phones and Alexa and other computer and technology that’s supposed to be helpful but often seems to be messing with us. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Satyrdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Here it is again.

Yes, it’s a day that ends with the letter y. That means that PINO Trump is letting loose with another fact-free, incredibly stupid text. In this case, Trump is declaring that he as 47 has won the Nobel Prize in Physics. This is so mind-jarringly freakin’ insane that I had to vet it several times.

How Trump just subtly claimed a Nobel Prize in physics

In a post on his Truth Social platform Thursday, Trump appeared to take credit for the Nobel Prize in Physics, which was awarded to physicists John Clarke, Michel Devoret and John Martinis earlier this month for their discoveries related to quantum mechanics in 1984 and 1985.

Trump cited a statement, attributed to Energy Secretary Chris Wright, which appears to give the president credit over the experiments conducted decades ago.

See, Chris Wright is not the name of any of the physicists who won the Nobel Prize in Physics.

But Trump in his alternate reality thinks one of them is named Chris Wright. Chris Wright, a former CEO. Crazy Donnie’s statement states, “Chris Wright: ‘A former Lawrence Berkeley National Lab scientist won the Nobel Prize in physics for work in Quantum physics. Quantum computing, along with AI and Fusion, are the three signature Trump science efforts. Trump 47 racks up his first Nobel Prize!!’”

Chris Wright.

John Clarke, Michel Devoret, John Martinis.

Those names are not at all similar. To claim it as an honest mistake is all kinds of BS.

Further, though, and worse, Trump chalks this up as a victory for himself. He had nothing to do with any of it. What a liar and a fool he’s proven himself to be once again. But as Nan put it, yet, yet, yet, Trumpets are quite satisfied with this idiot leading them.

What unthinking, foolish sheeple they are in MAGAland. But as we’ve seen, they don’t care until they’re personally affected.

Then, of course, it’s too late.

Seasons

Breaking away from writing, I step out for a walk. The sun has warmed us to a comfortable level. I stride along, nodding and saying hello to others encountered.

A shineless brown hot rod comes along. Roadster. Something out of the forties. Driven by a man who looks like he also originated in the forties, and a woman who might be a little younger, maybe even his daughter, as a passenger, bundled up in heavy clothes.

Putting along at 20 MPH, he guides the car to the side and waves a following vehicle past. Silver SUV, its twenty something driver gooses it faster. An electric vehicle, it glides by with a rising brash hum.

The scene on a small-town street seems so perfectly emblematic of change. Trees and their colors tell of the season changing around us, and there goes an old internal combustion car of a kind rarely seen, passed by an electric car, of the kind now commonly encountered.

Reality couldn’t have been better staged.

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

This is a first world issue. First world blues. It’s about the ‘do-nothing’ loop. And enshittification.

We have an Epson printer. Bought it about a year ago. Replaced the big old Brother printer we’d had for over a decade. We often struggled with it. No; it often struggled to do what we wanted it to do. We wanted it to print on demand. We thought that’s what it was designed to do. Now I know otherwise. These printers aren’t designed to print. They’re designed to bring in revenue as products when they’re sold. After that, fuck you, you’re on your own.

So, Yellow-Magenta-Cyan are not printing on the Epson. That’s essentially the basis of color printing. I’ve gone through updates. Nozzle power cleans. Test printing to a sickening point. Nothing changes the YMC outcome. Yes, there’s ink in there. First thing I checked.

The enshittification really begins with the support. It’s a beautiful do-nothing loop. If it doesn’t print, clean nozzles. Then test. If it doesn’t print again, turn off for twelve hours. Try again. Here are some more helpful things.

None of the ‘more helpful things’ offer an iota of help. They’re just not what’s going on with our printer. And clicking on some just take me

Okay, let’s ask them for support. To get support, I need to the serial number.

Where is the serial number?

On the bottom of the printer, of course!

It’d be too damn easy to put it on the front, top, rear, or other two sides. No, no, no, let’s go full enshittification. Let’s put it on the bottom. Because, see, printers have ink. They shouldn’t be turned upside down. So, that makes it very difficult to get the serial number required for support, so win-win for them, they save on support costs!

What enshittification geniuses!

Hmmm, let me see what AI says about turning my printer upside down.

WTF kind of answer is that, oh great AI?

The Indicators Dream

I don’t know what age I was supposed to be in this dream. I felt younger, maybe in my early middle age. Anyway, I arrived at this cluttered, jumbled location. Busy with people, we were being asked to make choices. Like many others that I overheard and witnessed, I didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Acting on haste, I checked some small pails.

The pails were plastic and different colors, like red, blue, yellow, green. They reminded me of pails which children use in a sandbox or at the beach.

In these pails were some sort of small black squares. Each had tiny white letters and numbers but were mostly blank. Nobody seemed very sure about what they were or what we were supposed to do with them, but everyone was certain that we were supposed to take some. I wasn’t sure how many to take but grabbed eight. Then, following the flow of people doing who had also made their choices, I went along the line until we came to a long messy table, one of many. Above the table, three slender, black metal slats ran parallel to the table. Many already had multiple black squares attached to them. With observation and trial and error, I discovered the metal squares were magnetic and that we were supposed to attach them to the slats. Okay, I did that.

When I did, the black squares became alive with information. Watching, I realized that they were displaying information about the people who put them up, like, for me, as example. Each black square was giving out vital signs about different body functions, is how it first appeared. Most accepted that but I saw that some were just displaying dates, but not in the usual format. Pressing the dated squares showed me events from that day. As I did that, I began understanding that the white letters and numbers gave information about what was embedded and contained codes and patterns.

Assimilating this, I began excitedly talking about my realizations. Other people were disinterested, dismissing the squares. But I grasped that the squares’ functions were actually based on their relationship and placement with each other. Calling them indicators, I started telling people, “Don’t you see? If you can go back and find the right indicators for yourself, you can know your full history. Not only that, but it can also show the future for each of us.”

Moving the squares around showed me that I was right. Pressing back against the crowd, I tried to go back to the buckets to look for better black squares.

Dream end.

Me Against the Machine!

TL/DR: I lost again.

I received a paper check in the mail. After posting it to the wall for action for ten days, I launched myself to the credit union to make a deposit at the ATM. After processing it all, pressing the right buttons, and answering their questions, the machine told me with an exclamation point, “Invalid Transaction!”

“How the fuck is that an invalid transaction,” I muttered at the screen. It didn’t answer.

Well, one failure is a fluke. Two is a coincidence. Three is a trend as a failure. I did it four times. Fed the check into the machine four different ways. Always came back, “Invalid Transaction!”

It’s not me, I consoled myself. Has to be the machine. Still, it did sting to walk away a failure.

1982

Daily writing prompt
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?

I’ve lived without a computer before. It actually wasn’t terrible. Yes, I’m now spoiled. Personal computers have been life changing.

But jump back to 1982. I was in the U.S. Air Force, stationed at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, an island that belongs to Japan. Commodore’s VIC 20 had us abuzz about computers. While we could easily see how it would make many things easier, shopping wasn’t yet on the menu. Nor was getting news updates. It was only toward the end of 1983 that I began learning about the concepts of ‘bulletin boards’, the Internet, and the worldwide web.

So back then, we watched television. Movies were watched via VHS tapes. That was the latest, greatest tech move for us, and such devices were still running close to $1,000. But we had one to help us weather the lack of entertainment inherent in being overseas. Remember, this was before satellite TV, too, for all practical purposes. All that stuff was just coming out, as were microwave ovens. They were also huge, bulky, expensive machines, but we purchased on of those, as well.

It’s hard to believe how fast everything changed. In late 1983, I bought my first CD player. It played one CD at a time. Returning to the U.S. from Japan, we gave our VHS player to my wife’s parents, and bought ourselves a new, smaller one with more features, including a remote control. That was the same year that I bought my first computer, a small but heavy Kaypro. Running at 4.77 megahertz, with a tiny green screen, it ran on CP/M and offered minimal RAM and two floppy drives that used 5 1/4 inch disks. It was a wild scene. We learned how to add RAM, make things faster, and double our floppy disks’ storage. Ten megahertz machines were being touted as possibilities, along with 64K of RAM and a 5-meg hard drive and 16 color monitors! Wow!

Back before that, we read. A lot. Books were checked out from the library, and research was done at the library. I subscribed to multiple magazines, such as Writer’s Digest, Autoweek, and Road & Track. Went for walks, played sports, read newspapers, which were delivered daily. When I lived in San Antonio, Texas, I subscribed to both the San Antonio Light and the Wall Street Journal. Even with the computer and VHS player coming along, and the CD player, and DVD players, most of that didn’t change. We still visited malls to shop, and used Sears and Spiegel catalogues to make orders, calling in to toll free numbers to put the order in. Board games like Risk, Life, and Monopoly were popular with us, along with Trivial Pursuit, and card games like Tripoli and King on the Corner, and Solitaire.

No, the big change came when the Internet finally fired up. My experience with it began in 1991, when I came back from Germany. Slow as hell, to be sure. Connections through modems which had to be hooked up. LOL. That changed fast, too, as built-in modems came along. I was both a Compuserve and AOL subscriber. Email was a new, exciting idea.

Then, suddenly we went to 256 colors and beyond on our monitors. The mouse became popular. 100 megahertz machines were being sold. I remembered buying and installing a 100-meg hard drive, and laughing. How was I ever going to use that much storage? It seemed so excessive. By then, our floppy drives were down to three-inch little colorful things. Now, we’re like, floppy drive? What the heck is that?

Going online was a wild scene back in the mid 1990s. Weren’t many websites in those early days. The games were something else. Research, news, and sports all became much more accessible. Then, boom…social media. That’s when things really flipped.

I’ve gone a few days in 2025 without my computer and without the Internet. Like before, we read, played games, and went for walks.

Just like it was 1982, just forty years ago, when I was younger, and so was the personal computer.

Accessorize!

Rise up and clip together in solidarity. Annie shares information about using paperclips in a political way.

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