Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw an online headline:

‘Grizzly bears to be reintroduced’

That’s nice, I thought, a grizzly romance, or maybe just a friendship. I wonder how they reconnected? Social media, like Bearbook?

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

The weather has pressed pause on the rain. Shards of broken sunshine are coming through but as soon as they broach the dark clouds’ defenses, a new mass of clouds rush in to patch it up.

A refrigerating breeze circles the streets with a load of petrichor. Like a madeleine for Prost, the petrichor delivers stacks of memories. I flash to being a boy in Wilkinsburg and Penn Hills, PA, a young airman in Korea and Germany, a tourist walking outside a tavern on a darkening day to visit with Dad in West Virginia.

Such is the power of smells to foster memories.

Thursday’s Wandering Thought

I encountered a man yesterday as I was walking along a street. I wear a hat with ‘flair’, and it attracted him. He wanted to see my US flag one. As he admired it, he asked, “What’s that beneath your flag pin?”

“That’s my retired USAF pin.”

“Oh, you were in the Air Force.”

The Neurons jumped up with responses like, “No, I just like the pin.”

I beat The Neurons back and answered, “Yes, I was.”

I wondered what his Neurons were saying to him about his question. I imagine they were like Homer Simpson’s neurons, muttering, “That’s it, I’m out of here,” followed by footsteps and a slamming door.

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

I was skateboarding the net yesterday, swerving from click to click. An ad bounced up for an Ashlandia coffee shop I used to regularly frequently. It permanenly closed due to the pandemic, Jan 2021.

My backstory is that I enjoy coffee shops as a place to write. I began doing that when I started working from home and began writing short stories in parallel. I use the process of going to the coffee shop as a method to put on my writing hat and throw off the rest of the world. Finding the right place is a challenge. There’s the taste. Location. Prices. Staff. Decent writing surface and a place to plug in. Wifi is a nice convenience to add.

The coffee’s shop closure during the pandemic was the abridged edition. Located in a hotel, a husband and wife team managed it on behalf of her father. He owned the hotel He came in one December day and told them that plans were changing. They protested. The exchange grew angry and loud. The husband and wife were fired.

I’d been loyal to them. The staff walked out with the managers in protest. Long-time customers like me left and didn’t return. They made changes. I visited once a few months later. It wasn’t the same. Management declared after that that only hotel guests were welcome. That was only in the morning.

Replacing it had been difficult. An ad to come patron it surprised me. I checked online: permanently closed, according to its FB page and website.

But businesses are often shoddy about keeping their social presence online up to date. I drove by. Dark. Empty. Closed.

I went on to my new favorite coffee shop. I’ve already lost four Ashlandia coffee shops in the nineteen years I’ve lived here. Hope I don’t lose a fifth. Yes, it’s all about me.

Still, I had to ponder the business intricacies that had an ad for a closed business riding on the net. Sometimes, it’s still garbage in, garbage out.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I don’t know about other generations, but my fellow Boomers and I are frugal. At least the ones in my acquaintance are.*

We get a tube of something, we cut it open to get the last of it. I thought it was something only my wife and I do. But, oh, no. Friends and family all spoke up. Tubes, squeeze bottles, whatever, they all do their utmost to get the very last drop.

It’s odd and funny. Many will put themselves through ridiculous measures and extended time to reach that tantalizing last measure. I shouldn’t be surprise that it turns out to be so prevalent. After all, there are a remarkable spectrum of devices out there sold just to help, and tricks and tips on blogs, websites, and magazines.

We were doing this way before any economic recessions or the C-19 pandemic. My wife and I originally did this because we were in the military. Back then, in the 1970s and 1980s, they didn’t pay well. Everything had to be stretched.

Now, it’s just conditioning.

*Yes, I have read articles about the other generations and their spending habits. Gen Z is now cited as the most frugal. They’re young. We’ll see.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

When I enjoy a book I’m reading, I like sharing passages with others. Foremost among those others is my spouse.

Unfortunately, I’m reading Dungeon Crawling Carl. I’m greatly enjoy it and I want to talk about it with my wife. But she wants to read it, so I can’t share these passages because I don’t want to spoil it for her.

It’s one of those frustrating aspects about reading.

Aging ‘Puter

Like many things, my computer is aging. It’s developing problems from that.

This HP Envy 17 has been in use for ten years. Not bad, I suppose. But in the last few months, it’s begun developing keyboard issues. Specifically, when typing, the selected letters don’t show up.

“In exampl, here is an uncorreced section. It’s not consistent. It was always the e when it first started, and then he r. But now the problem migrated right. It’s saying on the same line, but it’s now most often the t and the y.”

Really can be disruptive to the whole writing/typing process. I will clean the keys again. Trouble is, I did that a few months ago, and now I worry that I may have contributed to the problem.

In a way, it reminds me of typewriters I’ve used. Some of them had keys which needed extra attention. Like an old Brother typewriter I used for several years. Press a few of those keys and they were instantly stuck, full stop.

New computer, you suggest? You crazy? This one still has a lot of good life to it. It just requires a little extra focus and the willingness to adjust.

Besides, if I purchase a new puter, I’d need to rid myself of this one. Or just add it to the others in my house, maybe build some sort of ‘Puter Henge and pretend it’s art.

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Employees at a local grocery store wear shirts with “Look for the food you love” on the back.

I got caught up thinking about what food I love. Pie jumped into mind. I didn’t look for pie that day. Nor did I look for fruits and veggies, which I also love, or nuts and seeds. Nor cheese. Sandwiches. Didn’t look for them, either. Or pizza, another food I love.

I just looked for yogurt that day. It was on sale. A good price.

That’d be on my tee’s back: “Look for food you love with a good price.

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