Munda’s Theme Music

Munda, July 7, 2025, has broken clear and relatively cool, hosting blue sky and 76 F temperature. Expectations for th afternoon heat have been lowered; some say we’ll kiss 100 F, others claim we’ll peak in the mid 90s.

Keeping a weather eye on the global fire situations. With so many large fires going at it on multiple continents, smoke and air pollution becomes a problem for us. Of course, the Texas flash floods disaster remains the headline story. Among the headlines are reminders of shortsighted decisions, like, Officials Feared Flood Risk to Youth Camps but Rejected Warning System. Costs were cited as the reason why an improved system wasn’t installed; they lost out on a million dollar grant a few years ago. Meanwhile, Texas spent $2,300,000,000 on their ‘border wall’ and several more billion on border security. Speaks well for a ‘pro-life’ state where fear and racism won again over practical matters. Those are Texans’ choices, a reflection of their political worries and priorities. It’s a sad state and it’s questionable, with the cuts to the National Weather Service under Trump, whether appropriate alarm would have been given.

The United States has reached its highest annual measles case tally in 33 years, hitting at least 1,277 confirmed cases across 38 states and the District of Columbia.

The milestone marks a public health reversal in defeating a highly contagious, vaccine-preventable disease as the anti-vaccine movement gains strength.

Way to go, Trump, way to go.

I’ve been calling our local healthcare providing, Asante, to establish arrangements for the needed gallbladder ultrasound. The net: 5 calls, 25 minutes on hold, and never spoke with a human. That doesn’t do much to reassure me that the system is working.

Today’s music is a 1985 hit for Eric Clapton, “Forever Man”. The Neurons didn’t establish a concrete reason for its use in the morning mental music stream.

Breakfast has been consumed. Off to get involved with the day. Have a better one. Cheers

July 7, 2025 0

Satyrda’s Wandering Thoughts

Not too long ago, I learned more about sudoriferous or sudoriparous glands. These are basically our sweat glands, if you’re human. My reading instructed me about the apocrine sweat glands, and eccrine sweat glands. I never gave sweat glands much thought before, but this was related to something I was writing, in a really thin tangenital way. I don’t want to get all pedantic about it because most of your probably already learned these things that I’m just coming upon, but all sweat is not the same. I kind of guessed that from the smell and feel of sweat in my armpits and groin area versus everywhere else there where sweat glands reside. Also, check out how tiny these sweat glands are on this photo of a fingerprint. Pretty amazing, right?

Human sweat gland pores on the ridges of a finger pad

In an aside, it’s good to have the net available to provide this info. I ding the net for not being perfect but it really can be helpful.

July 5, 2025 1

WP Blues

WordPress blues struck again. Reading another’s post, I moved to comment. WP responded, hey, is this you? We’re asking because you’re not logged in.

I clicked to another tab which indeed showed me logged in.

That led me to an uncomfortable place. I don’t want to log in and re-enter my password on a page asking for such when I’m already demonstrably logged into that site. Cause, suspiciously, even though the URL looked okay and the page seemed genuine, it smelled. It this wasn’t a digital offering on a laptop but instead something tangible, it would stink like milk left out in a hot apartment for a month. It would arouse suspicions like a Nigerian prince offering me a million dollars if I just loaned him five grand for a day.

That’s how we live these days, at least in my abode, where phones aren’t answered unless the number is known, where unexpected packages are treated with deadly caution, strangers knocking on the door are ignored, and links in emails are triple-vetted.

Of course, it might have been some sort of WordPress malfunction. That kinda happens, too.

July 2, 2025 2

Thirstda’s Theme Music

My phone was ringing and dinging with a plethora of text messages. I clicked on the app to see WTF was going on. My phone tried calling people. Sighing, I rolled out of bed. 6:48.

Sunshine was again championing the blue summer sky. 58 F now, it’d be 84 F later. A thin line of nascent white clouds trouble the sky blue from being as rich and pure as possible. I tried again to check messages but they wouldn’t come up on an app. My sister, though, corresponds with me on a separate app. Her summaries detailed an overnight firefight in The Mom Saga between Mom, her boyfriend, his family, and my family.

I exercised to engage my muscles and get blood moving in the right direction and consulted my Fitbit for the results. Fitbit hadn’t registered anything. Some scrolling revealed that my Fitbit was fritzing. WTF.

Thirstda, June 26, 2025, was not off to an inspiring launch. Maybe coffee and perusing the news would help. Meanwhile, I would reboot my Fitbit and phone. I mean by that, turn them on and off. That’s often modern technology’s rudimentary fixes: turn it off and back on. It failed this time, leaving me with some WTF mumbling to my caffeinating self. Almost in parallel, I went to the net via computer to search for help. Blank pages came up. Really, WTAF?

Finagling of computer settings were engaged. Results showed. Turning off the Fitbit and turning it on again a few times, I drank coffee and considered the failed results. With coffee in, brain neurons engaged in what was going on.

Hey, they said, did you notice that the time is going backwards on the Fitbit?

Whaaat? I answered. Yes. Each time I turned the FB off and on, the time it showed went further back.

The Neurons said, This has happened before.

I’d tried snyncing the Fitbit with the app. That failed. The app kept telling me that an update was available. But It also told me that the update was already installed.

Well, hold on, partner, The Neurons said. The app is probably hung.

Of course.

Bringing the app up, I worked a hard shutdown on the phone. Yep, that fixed all Fitbit problems.

Thank god for coffee.

Tethered to my computer and technological issues, The Neurons are huddling with songs about freedom. The morning’s hours have sprinted away. Solomon Burke ends up singing “None of Us Are Free” in the morning mental music stream. A line resonates with me: “If you don’t say its wrong, then you say it’s right.” Yep. That’s how I view those Trump voters who say, “I didn’t vote this. I don’t support it.” You spoke with your actions. “The truth is shining bright right before our eyes.”

On into the day I go. Hope you have a better one. Cheers

June 26, 2025 1

Thirstda’s Wandering Thoughts

TL/DR: AI is fucking up. And that’s fucking us up.

One of my childhood passions were cars. From that grew an intense interest in auto racing. It wasn’t something that I shed as an adult. Passions aren’t easily surrendered. Yeah, as an adult, auto racing, with its environmental impacts, ridiculously increasing costs, and inherent dangers, lacked substantial commonalities with the human condition and the challenges Earth and humanity face. I excused myself for decades with the subterfuge that we don’t want a vanilla existence. Year after year I followed sports car and Formula 1 racing. For a while, I also hunted NASCAR, IMSA, and IndyCar news. But sports car and Formula 1 was it for me. As I aged, the passion became muted and dulled. Part of that was that the sport just wasn’t as competitive. Aspects of its relevance to real existence also troubled me, though, and that grew.

One of the Internet’s commercial strengths is that it notices what you look at, and then baits you with more of the same. The net noticed I checked out LeMans this year. It came up with reminders about Ford’s victories at LeMans in the 1960s via the Ford GT. That effort was highlighted not long ago in a movie called Ford v Ferrari.

A story about Ford’s 1967 LeMans victory grabbed my eye. Driving a red Ford GT Mark IV, American drivers Dan Gurney and A.J. Foyt took LeMans in record form. I built a model of the car within a year. It sat on my dresser among my other models until I moved out of Mom’s house four years later. Eagerly, I read the story. Then I wondered: how many drivers have won both the 24 Hours of LeMans and the Indy 500?

I put it to AI; how many drivers have won both the 24 Hours of LeMans and the Indy 500?

AI responded, slightly paraphrasing, Lewis Hamilton won it in 2011 and Max Verstappen has won it four times recently.

WTF?

I know that Lewis Hamilton has never raced at Indy or LeMans. Nor has Max V. Both are Formula 1 champions.

The entire AI answer was fantastically fucking wrong. Now, if I didn’t know the sport, I may have been fooled by the answer. Which pushes the wonderment in me, how many people consult the Internet for truthful and factual information and are being fed wrong answers? How many lack the resources or awareness to challenge the veracity of what they’re being fed?

For shits and grins, I asked AI again. This time, one source said, “…while only Foyt has won both the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the Indianapolis 500.” Another told me, “Only one driver has won both the Indianapolis 500 and the 24 Hours of Le Mans: Graham Hill.”

So, both answers are wrong, because I knew before asking that Foyt and Hill were the only drivers who accomplished this.

Wrong info on the net is not new. We’ve joked for years, “It was on the Internet so it must be true, ha, ha.”

But the shit is getting deep. The way that wrong information is advancing and spreading with AI’s gentle assistance, the joke is now on us.

June 26, 2025 0

A Dream Hodgepodge

This dream had quite a jumbled collection.

It starts with me returning. I was off to the military; now I was back. People had been staying in my place while I was away, but that was done with my permission. Things were a little out of hand because they’d treated it like a party crib. I had a stern conversation with them; yes, they were welcome to stay there. Sure, it was okay to have people over, but they’d start trashing things, and that wasn’t appreciated. They were very understanding in return.

Then I was tidying. I had shelves of old electronics, mostly stereos, cassette and 8-track tape players, CD players, and VHS players. The dust on some were thick. As I resettled back into life, I exclaimed to myself, “Man, I have a lot of gear here. How the hell did I get it all?”

A young boy came up. He didn’t pay any attention to me. He seemed to be looking for something so I asked, “What’s up?”

The boy answered, “I’m looking for a music player for my friend. He wants one for his bicycle.”

I said, “I think I can help him.” I pulled out a small black box and dusted it off. “This has a radio and tape player. It’s small and he can mount it on his handlebars.” I looked more closely at the black box. “It also has record player on it so I don’t know if he would want it.”

“That’s okay,” the boy said. Taking it, he went away.

In a weird dream shift, my place was both outside and inside. I worried about my cats. I had two, and they were a plush gray with golden eyes. Both were young. I looked around for them. They were busy investigating things just outside and playing. When I called their names, they hastened to me, which mitigated my worries.

Then, I worried about my schedule. I needed to call and find out where and when I needed to be for work. Going through my cluttered place, I picked up the phone and dialed 633 while going to my desk to find what the final four numbers were. A woman answered the phone, “Operator intersect.”

I laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t expect that,” I said. “What’s an operator intersect?”

The operator explained, “The call is diverted to the operator whenever the call is not completed but the line is open in case someone has an emergency but can’t finish dialing.”

I answered, “Sorry, I just don’t know where I’m calling. My bad.”

Next, I thought, oh, I should call Mom. So I did. Answering before a ring finished, she said, “About time.” No hello or anything else.

Irritation jumped through me. “Wait, are you pissed because I didn’t immediately call you when I got home? Is that what’s going on here?” She did not answer. I said, “You’re being childish. I’m going to count down from five. If you don’t start talking before I’m done with the countdown, I’m hanging up. Understand?”

No answer.

I began the countdown. When I said, “Three,” I went on, “Oh, forget this. This is stupid. You’re an adult, Mom, and you’re behaving like a child.”

Then I hung up on my mother.

Dream end.

June 8, 2025 0

An Oven DIY Update.

Well. That’s over with. A new igniter is installed and working in my GE Profile range

It was not easy. Not the 30 minute job advertised. Noooo. Because, manufacturing. So.

Part arrives. Looks right. Saturday afternoon, I begin.

Turn off power to range. Remove top iron grills and burner covers. Empty bottom storage of the baking sheets and iron skillets. Remove oven door. Slide out from wall. Unplug. Turn off gas.

Now we’re cooking.

Remove racks. Remove two screws from the back on the fire shield. Shift back, lift up and remove fire shield.

It’s all going like a dream.

Locate igniter. Bingo, right there. Remove two screws. Remove two screws. Remove…two…screws…

One breaks off. Fuck Second one just turns and turns, apparently stripped.

Try a zillion fucking ways to get that screw out. No. Go.

Three hours have passed. I’m dripping sweat. I stop for the day. Realize sometime during the evening, I’m going to need to grind off that screw head. I need a tool for that, research options, and make shopping plans.

Ten o’clock. I get ready to go shopping. My wife pops off to a friend’s house. She calls as I’m walking out the door. The friend has a Dremel I can use to grind the head off. His son has it as his place, about two miles from my place. Off I go to pick it up and bring it back.

The friend’s son is a friend and a retired editor and literary agent, so we talk books and publishing for thirty minutes. He’s always a good visit. He’s also just lost his cat to cancer; another ten minutes is spent on sympathy and pain.

Back at home, gloves and goggles are donned, the grinder is plugged in, and the head is ground off. The igniter is freed from its bracket but remains wired in. To get to that, I should remove several more pieces but after that previous screw episode, that is not going to happen. I instead cut the wires to the igniter and remove the plug out the back. Next, I twist and shift my fingers, screwdrivers, and pliers until the new igniter’s connections are through the 1.25 inch through the back. I really could have used four more hands and much longer arms during this process. The igniter is put into place. New screws are installed.

Then, reverse disassembly. Just enough to let me test that puppy. Gas on. Power on. Plugged in. Fingers crossed, oven turned on.

Success.

The range’s empty space is cleaned, then the range is manuevered back into place. Everything is returned to its position and the tools are put away. It’s 2:30.

Time for lunch. Water. And rest.

June 1, 2025 5

Two More DIY Jobs

It’s another year. That means more do-it-yourself work.

First, praise be to the net and the help that it provides.

My DIY needs began without any foreshadowing. We have up / down Duette honeycomb blinds in the office. The right sash raises and lowers the blind’s top while the left sash raises and lowers the blind’s bottom. This arrangement allows broad and flexible configurations. We drop the blinds’ top halfway in the morning to let early daylight into the room. Later, we raise the top all the way and then raise the bottom about two feet. Bushes block most of the bottom window so we get light without direct afternoon sunlight, which can be scorching, but still have privacy.

I pulled the cord to make this arrangement the other day and won ‘snap’ for my efforts. The ribbon tape which controls the inside mechanism broke apart. First thing I did was remove the blind and take photos of the labels. Labels on products are packed with information.

Then, to the net! I researched how to repair it. I figured I could do it. As usual, the challenge is to find the right parts. Unable to do it, I reached out to the manufacturer, Hunter-Douglas. Six emails, four days, and two photos later, they sent me a link to a KB article for how to fix it and told me they’re sending the needed parts, free, in ten to fourteen days. I’ll update you after that.

The second job came to light an hour later. I preheated the oven to bake potatoes. Only the oven didn’t go on. The burners lit so it wasn’t a gas issue, nor a general electrical problem.

To the camera!

To the net!

Quick research pointed to the igniter for my eight year old GE Profile range model PGB911ZEJ4SS. I should trouble shoot to pin it down but I gambled, hunted down the part, WB13X25500, and put in the order. I’m waiting for its arrival.

Will it work? As with everything, time will tell.

May 30, 2025 0

Do You Want to Connect

Daily writing prompt

Do you remember life before the internet?

View all responses

Life before the net. Do I remember those dark, soulless days? Oh, yeah. I remember those days, just as I recall life without the world wide web, life without cable and DVDs, life without CDs, eight-track and cassette tapes, life without microwaves, and life without cell phones and more than three networks. I remember life without remote controls, which my wife calls, the clicker.

Yes, I remember buying my first personal computer. I remember using the first one at home. Then I recall signing us up for Compuserve and Mindnet. I remember getting my first email address and having no one to email. That soon changed. Viagra offers quickly found my inbox. With it came an understanding of something non-meaty called ‘Spam’ and wealthy Nigerians in need of money.

Yes, I remember pre-net life. Primarily because our TV schedule was fixed according to the cable schedule. Cheers on Thursday, for example. But when the net came into its full flowering, I was able to find a huge variety of things to stream from around the world, watching them when I wanted, instead of waiting for their schedule. Long as I was willing to pay for it.

With the net, the days of going to the front door and looking for the daily newspaper disappeared. There was no need for all that inked paper to stack up and get put out for the trash. Now the news was right there online. I didn’t need to wait until 6 PM to check to see what was happening. Of course, information about what was happening locally soon began fading. We could no longer just pick up the paper and turn to the police log to see what the hell the sirens were all about the other day. No, that faded. Now, there are sometimes stories on Facebook or Nextdoor. Some others are struggling to bring the local news back to us. It’s a challenge. Many efforts arise and fall.

Freedom came with online ordering, too. I no longer needed to prowl through brick and mortar stores, making comparisons, trying to figure out what to buy. Boom, the net was heavy with choices. It was still onerous in the early days to compare things but then came Amazon… Suddenly, whoa. It was a desperate consumer’s dream.

Do you know what it was like to travel in pre-net days? Calling the airlines to get price checks, listening to them look up schedules for you, explaining options? Same with hotels. Expedia and the like made it easier…for a while. But wherever money and humans are involved with money transactions and information, others are there to scam us for their share of the pie.

Yes, I remember life before the net. It was simpler and harder, easier, and more problematic. That’s how it always is with progress. Each step unfolds with new and surprising insights, and the things we used to do begin to fade.

Just think: one day, people will be asking, do you remember life before AI?

And someone will reply, I remember the days before cars. And then we’ll all wonder, what was that like, and turn to AI for the answer.