Trip through France

(Note: this written december 12th while riding the TGV high speed train. I was unable to post it until today)

So, here we are. Zipping along at about 300 km/hr. That’s about 180 mph for you Americans out there. It is a dull gray day here on the TGV (France’s high speed train) and there is not a lot of interesting scenery out there. And if there were, I couldn’t just ask the conductor to pull over for a photo opportunity.

We just left Paris, the one in France, this morning. I am (we are) physically spent after walking for hours at a time. I will have pictures to share if any wants to see them. I find that photos are primarily memory triggers and if you weren’t there, it really doesn’t mean a whole lot except to say “wow, you must have had a great time”.

So we started this journey by landing at Charles DeGaulle airport after flying all night from Dallas. A rather non-eventful flight except I had trouble sleeping sitting straight up. We had been number three and four on the upgrade list, but there was only room for one and two. After landing we walked the length of the terminal 2 to get to the RER railway which eventually, after a stop and transfer, took us to Gare St. Lazare. Please note that Paris has 6, yes count them SIX, train stations, all of which will send you off in a different direction. We found our train and headed off to Bayeux, a small late medieval town near the coast of Normandy. We found out there that they are strict adherents to the restaurant schedule of not serving before 7 in the evening. The wait was worth it however: at a small family café, we had fish and scallop dishes that made our tongues and tummies very happy.

Of course, we also took the opportunity to walk around the town. My wife translated a bit for me until I began to attach French words to Anglo meanings. She collects church visits like some folks collect stamps or coins. So, we spent a while out of the cold and wind in the local Church dedicated to Notre Dame.

Let me also interject here that the sun sets a whole lot earlier than one normally expects. If you are outside after 1730 or 1800 (Europeans use the 24 hour clock mostly) you will be navigating by lamplight. I am sure on the opposite side of the calendar, you may be up very late to see a sunset.

On Sunday, a guide named Sophie drove us around the Normandy coast. We started at Arromanches and worked our way west to Utah beach after a stop in St. Mere-Eglise. She was able to explain a few things that my history teachers never told me. We did also stop at the American Cemetery. I saluted those of the Brotherhood who have gone before us. It was raining while we were there, which covered the moistening of my eyes. It was a “bucket” thing that I feel is still in my “bucket”. It is a thing that should be on every military/ex-military’s list.

We came back to Paris on Monday. After settling in at the hotel, which, by the way, was located facing the Seine and across from the Louvre, we set out to find the visitor information center. To do so, we had to walk past the Louvre, the Carrousel, and down Rue des Pyramides. After getting our museum passes and getting the wife’s questions answered, we set off to find something to eat. Nothing really struck our fancy until I saw a street creperie. Since my daughter had gone off to France with her mother years ago, she told me I HAD to experience this. So I did. A ham and cheese crepe. It satisfied my light hunger and we went back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.

We got tickets on the bus for the OpenTour bus. It drives around Paris and allows tourists to get on and off at pre-designated stops. We scheduled this so that we could be at the Eiffel Tower by 1130. We had reservations at noon for their service in restaurant 58TourEiffel. Luck was with us as they seated us by a window overlooking the Trocadero. The food was excellent. We spent the next two hours wandering around the tower and I even went to the top and had a flute of mid-quality champagne. It was a thing to do. The wife was not excited about the distance from the top to the ground, besides which she had been there several times before. That night we took the bus to Montmarte and watched a Mass at Sacre Couer. Afterwards, she sought out a restaurant called La Mere Catherine. She had wanted to eat there since she was a child and got to fulfill a long-time dream. My chicken was slightly freezer burned on the edges, but otherwise good. We found out how far away the Metro station is from there and how far underground we had to go to get there. Over 200 steps from the surface.

The next day was a Big Hike. We went to Ile de Cite, visited Notre Dame Cathedral, found the Church of St Nicholas (one of the wife’s collection of churches), toured the Museum Cluny with pre medieval ruins, and hit the Louvre. Yes, I got to see Mona Lisa, but I don’t know what all the fuss is about, I found it less than spectacular. It was one of the first works of art placed there, one of twelve. It also travelled extensively with Napoleon. But there were more impressive works there: The Coronation of Napoleon and the Wedding at Cana stand out or at least they are names I remember. We only spent a couple of hours there, as we had tickets to a night-time Lights of Paris tour, both on the river and on a bus, followed by another visit to the Eiffel Tower.  Traffic delayed us some but we did complete the tour.

Thursday was also an endurance test. We took the OpenTour bus to the Arc de Triomphe. Taking the elevator to almost the top because of wife’s broken toes, I climbed the last 46 to view Paris, and especially the Champs Elysee from the top of the monument. At the end of the Boulevard de Grand Armee is La Defense. If you Google a photo of it, you will see a tall building with no center. I am told the wind accelerates through there at times due to venture effect. Oh, twelve streets radiate from the Arc. Champs Elysee and Boulevard de Grand Armee are on opposite sides from one another.

I will interrupt the narrative here to let all those reading that my wife is a “former” teacher of French, both language and culture. I use the quotes because there is nothing “former” about her approach. I was being constantly lectured about the history of this and the meaning of that. Even when she had told me about it the day before. And the day before that. She also takes great pride in her mastery of the French language. She spoke at great length to many of the local vendors and guides and a lot of the other locals. They were impressed with her ease of conversation in French. I never mentioned to them she is at ease in conversation at length in any language.

Then we took the bus around to have lunch at a department store that took up three buildings in the market district, Lafayette something or other. As we entered the lowest floor of the necessary building we were met with a plethora of the big names in perfume, jewelry and other feminine fashion. The girls behind the counters were well-dressed and sort of plastic makeup looking. Even the guys were pretty. The restrooms are on the fifth floor. I only note this because wherever we go, I am in charge of finding a potty for my wife. For some reason, probably age and three huge babies, she feels the need to use the toilet more than anyone I know. She asked three different people where the facilities were located (in French, of course) and I had it figured out by the second response. Besides, there were signs hung from the ceiling.

It was a wonderful lunch, cafeteria style, but better food. And then we spent, or at least she spent, another hour or so shopping for “a little gift”. I waited in the aisles wondering if I should go back to get that raspberry gelato in a cone.

Then it was off to find the bus stop again. I followed her as we left the building, but had to lead the way to the correct street.  The bus took us along its precharted course, and we eventually arrived at the Musee d’Orsay. This building used to be a train station, but because the coal fired trains blackened everything in the area, the stations were moved out from the center of town. It was a few things afterwards, but now I am glad it houses what it does. Although we were quite tired we agreed we could split up and meet at the reception area after two hours. Fortunately, this museum was not going to close until 9PM. With the 30-45 minutes for a quick bite to eat, I spent about four hours or so walking from exhibit to exhibit as quickly as my brain could take in what I was witnessing. I spoke with several people after this experience and they agreed Orsay was their favorite museum in Paris as well. I left when I did only because my legs and feet were so sore, I had concerns about making it back to the hotel.

So now we are on the TGV, on a cloudy day, heading to Stuttgart and then transferring to Nuremberg. But first, I am told I must find the restroom. And I will, because I have to use it as well.

changes, the only constant

IN the movie Fiddler on the Roof, the main character, Reb Tevye, who is the father to three girls, is forced to go through a series of changes in the way he relates to life. Because he has no real control over what is happening, he has to adapt to those changes whether he wants to or not.

At his funeral, I referred to my father as having gone through all the same stuff. He was uncomfortable with his daughters growing up in the sixties and experiencing all the "freedoms" they thought they had. He was able to relate to me because I followed the path he set for me, with no confrontation.

I am now experiencing the same "Oh-my-gods-what-the hell-is-going-on-here" part of my life.

My sons have grown and moved on their own. One in the Navy, now out in the Gulf of somewhere, putting airplanes back together after pilots find ways to abuse them. The second son is living nearby, is married and has supplied us with the cutest granddaughter we could ever hope for. She is growing smarter and stronger every day. There may be talk of another, but I am not privy to their decisions which are rightly theirs to make.

My daughter. She is the college graduate with two degrees from Texas Tech. She is beautiful, strong of body and character, and quite intelligent. She went off for a year and a half to teach English to Korean children in their public school system. It was her dream job and she loved it and grew more self assured as she worked there.

But now she is home, living with us, working for a school principal that is not supporting her well. Part of that is because she didn't tell her she was pregnant when she hired on. And she is teaching in fifth grade which is a testing for school evaluations level.

Yes, pregnant. Living with us, with a whole room devoted to the gonna-be-here-any-day son. I can not disparage of her living with us. It's a daddy-daughter thing. I am having problems with the fact that the little girl I taught to read and play soccer and learn karate and encourage her musical talents is now about to put another life under my roof. That life will require feeding, walking, rocking, total everything care for the next few years. Somewhere in my psyche, I was ready to just settle in, tolerate the one sided discussions from my wife, go to work occasionally, mow the lawn as necessary, walk the dogs every night, And drink beer while watching football.

I realize this kid is something special. He busted a condom and got past the chemistry of "the Pill" to become a zygote and has grown ahead of schedule for the last 35+ weeks. The only problem now is the mother has insanely high blood pressure and the doctors will induce on the 29th or 30th if there is no effacement or dilation occurring before then.

My wife, when she isn't taking her medications as prescribed, is worse than I am some days. She goes off on me about things I have no control, things the daughter/new mother has to decide. And some I should be responsible for, like cleaning the house that she is unable/unwilling to do. And the new mother also wants the house clean for her baby, and while we went on vacation, she and her brother cleared out a lot of stuff.

Like Tevye, and Joe Yak, I want things to be like they were. I want to challenge my sons, but cuddle my little girl. My sons are now Men who have evolved into their own lives and families. My daughter is now abut to be a Mother herself. I am sad that I cannot go back in time. I realize deep inside somewhere that life goes forward, that life will find a way to be. That all things, all people have to grow and evolve and change. That sometimes my heart and my brain have a disconnect.

Once again, I refer back to the great philosophers: The Beatles. It was a terrible song, but the words still ring true: "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, Life goes on...."

Been a while....

Yeah, I haven't posted anything in a while.
Things are in a tizzy here at the Casa Yak. Daughter is 8+ months preggers, wife and I are going on a vacation to Europe that she has had in her bucket list for some time, I've gone semi-retired at the Orange Box, and the glorious season of Cold is trying to make a showing.

And it IS that shitty season of catalogs and caroling. We have started getting a whole lot of mail-order catalogs from folks we haven't ordered from in ten years. Then Cal Farley wants us to support his Boy's Ranch, and the Salvation Army is ding-a-linging at Wally World. I selected this particular part of the year to vacation so I could get away from the thirteen songs of Xmas sung by pop stars of the forties and fifties being played over and over again. It has worked somewhat. I did turn on the local oldies-now-playing-Xmas music station for the wife. She loves this season. We will be gone on the aforementioned trip from December 5 to the 23rd. She wants to decorate the house. The aforementioned daughter-with-upcoming-grandson wants none of it. 20+ boxes came down from the attic so Wife could look at the ornaments and other shit. So far 15 have gone back up.

Work has been a little weird as well. I have been working in the hardware department, or at least assigned there for the last few months. There are things I can do there that no one else in the store seems to be able to do. This area encompasses power tools, hand tools, fasteners, door hardware, and safety equipment. Unfortunately, during the last couple of weeks, I was "cross-clocked" back into the flooring department, where I realized that I had dismissed from my brain all the computer procedures for setting up a carpet sale. Fortunately, there was no call to qualify and sell anything via the computer. But I may require some retraining when they do that to me again.

Getting older has had its downsides as well. I am not so eager to take my boxers "on patrol" as I am in the warmer weather. I sleep less well. When I do sleep well, it is always just before I have to wake up early to do something, like go to work at 6 in the darkness of night. My eating cycle has gone to hell as well. I'm not hungry at mealtime, but right after I am either uncomfortable from what I just ate or ravenously hungry for whatever will fit in my mouth. When I am at home, I have to fight off the afternoon nap syndrome. I often lose the fight.

The Wife is falling apart as well. She has had up to four broken bones in her foot. She had a molar with a split root that had to be surgically removed. There are small sores inside her mouth that come and go, unexplainable by the doctors she sees. She sees a chiropractor, an acupuncturist, an internist and some other doctor, as well as an occasional specialist. And several dental workers: dentist, oral surgeon, and orthodontist.

Getting old is not for the faint of heart.

A GOOD Thing: Got to see the sonogram of my grandson. He will be (or is) Marek Hye-Seong Yakabowskas. Daughter is the mother, daughter gets to name him. Neither name would have been in my top ten thousand, but they were her first choice, and that is what it shall be. My name was determined by the outcome of a lobster race after a fifth of scotch. The scotch was consumed by my father and Uncle Carl. The lobsters were skittling across the kitchen floor. Dad said his lobster just gave up halfway across  even though he was ahead.. The Marek is due to show up on December 31. I have been designated childbirth coach by my trusting, loving offspring. I am only slightly terrified. It has been 27 years since I did this last. And she was the reason I was coaching then.

I am now being summoned to help the Wife with stuff she needs to do before the Trip Across the Pond. This is stuff I told her to do three weeks ago. We will do them now, just before leaving.

Pray for me.

Toyota and their drivers

Well, I might think Jan is just a silly, robotic, phone-answering ninny who is trying to get people in to buy a Toyota. And I think their commercials along those lines tend to show off the part of the gene pool that should have had more chlorine dumped in.

But what really irks me is the actual drivers of those Coronas and Highlanders and Camrys and Tundras.

I think there is an IQ test given to all buyers of new and used cars. Along side the financial one that separates those of us who drive Chevys and Fords and Dodges from the Audi and Mercedes and BMW crew. And I shan't even mention the Maserati, Lamborghini, and Porsche elite (which I just did, to make a point).

But the folks who drive the commoner cars, like he abovementioned Chevys, etc, along with Nissan, VW, Kia, Hyundai, and Honda, are also separated by my idea of an IQ test. Those with common sense drive some of these cars and those with little or no ability to reason drive Toyotas. At least that is what it seems to me.

Or maybe I am just seeing things out on the streets of Collin County Texas. And maybe other people see other drivers doing stupid things, and I have, but the vast majority seem to be driving cheap ass cars from Japan.

It always seems to be a Toyota that slows down to make me wait to make my turn into traffic.
I have seen Toyotas turn left from the right lane and conversely, turn right from the center or left lane.
The parking leaves something to be desired. The lines in the grocery store lot are not supposed to be straddled, are they? Or a halfway pull-through that takes up two good spaces. I have learned to park away from those people.
Do Toyotas come with turn signals? Or if they do, do their drivers know how to use them?
The car that slows down my lane when I am trying to make time is usually a Toyota.
I have been passed, several times, by Toyotas going 20 mph over the limit in a school zone with blinking lights warning about the limits.
Most of the Toyotas that fly past me are waiting at the light when I get there.
The only accident I have had here in Texas was a Prius that rear-ended me at a stoplight. the driver got out of her car still talking on her cell phone and asked what the hell just happened. I drove away, her engine was sitting on the ground. That was after the policeman came to take our statements.
Then there was the lady in the Camry on Central Expressway. She was smoking, talking on her cell, and it appeared she was putting on makeup. When I leaned on my horn, she just flipped me off and took another drag on the cancer stick. Oh, she was going 15-20 mph slower than the traffic around her and she was in the middle lane.

"Oh, what a feeling! Toyota."  from their commercials back in the eighties

Why is no one asking about WTC 7?

As the Day America was Hoodwinked anniversary passes once again, and I refer to the 9/11 remembrances, I ponder the day, the outcomes, the criminal waste of life, and the Great Deception.

You see, all magicians know that if you want to fool someone with an illusion, you create a distraction, no matter how brief or subtle. And all publicists know that the media can be used to create that influence or distraction. And good liars know that if you tell a lie long enough and mix in just enough truth, people begin to believe it as Gospel. (And I may address that in another writing)

Well, we all saw the supposed replays of the first airplane hitting the first tower, and the second "strike" was broadcast for all to see.

We heard about the flight that went down in Pennsylvania and the phone call made from 30000 feet on a cell phone while the plane was moving at 500+  miles per hour. My cell phone at the time sometimes wouldn't work if I was walking across the room.

We saw the wall that was blown up by some object that crashed into the wall of the wing of the Pentagon that was almost uninhabited due to "remodeling" Did they ever find the second engine from that plane?

And we were shown how the Twin Towers collapsed STRAIGHT DOWN after being struck on one corner. And there were analyses done to show the squibs that misfired as the building was coming down.

We saw the Jews dancing on the street as the towers fell.

We were shown the man in the Harley-Davison shirt who explained to all of us across the world that he knew Osama Bin Laden and his guys were to blame. A man who was later identified as a professional actor.

Okay, so two towers, a plane crashing in an open field, the Pentagon attacked, and Bin Laden blamed. Something is missing from all this stuff. All this rhetoric and discussion and shouting and wailing and screaming out for vengeance: Why the hell is everyone ignoring the collapse of Tower 7? What was SO important in that building that thousands of people were killed to distract us from the destruction of THAT building? Our eyes were focused by the cameras, the media, the talking heads, the government on the twin towers, a hole in the ground and a hole in the Pentagon. The explosions that also took down tower 7 were an afterthought, something we don't have to pay attention to.

The same thermite residue was found beneath the rubble of 7 as was under 1 and 2. The same pyroclastic cloud of powdered concrete dust. The same professionally rigged pattern that dropped the building in it's own footprint.

I have watched enough "Monk" and "CSI" and "NCIS" and other crime solving shows to realize that the initially obvious is not always the final answer. I have learned to ask questions even though my superiors tried to dissuade me. I don't always follow the crowd in its way of thinking. I have learned the questions "Why" and "What" and "How" must always be answered to resolve a riddle.

There are groups going around the country calling for the further investigation into the felling of the towers 1 and 2. I think they should also be asking "Why did tower 7 fall as well?" Not how, that is the easily answered question. The evidence points to the same devices as the first two.

So the question is WHY not HOW.

As Frank Morgan uttered those famous words in the Wizard of Oz: "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain"

Vacation?

For the last two weeks of July and the first week of August, my wife wanted to  "Take me on a retirement vacation".

I am not really retiring. But I am going part time after 24 1/2 years at the Big Orange Box.

She loves Colorado. We have a week every other year at the Grand Lodge on Peak 7 in Breckenridge. I bought that for her because she would want to go there as much as possible. This year, to increase the excitement, we invited my son, his wife and our two year old granddaughter. AND she decided to drive the whole way in her Equinox. She drove the entire way. Said I didn't know how to drive her car. Was pissed at me when I wasn't the chatty copilot she normally is. I like quiet. I don't need to talk incessantly. If I express an opinion, it is usually the start of a discussion as to how wrong I am and have always been. So, in self defense, I try to avoid talking.

We stopped in Buena Vista, Colorado, at the Cottonwood Hot Springs. She loves hot springs for some reason. The water was naturally hotter than normal bath water and the second pool was too cool and the third was acceptably warm. The place also believes in minimizing light pollution at night and we were able to see the billions of stars up above. The Milky Way galaxy was very evident. As we saw a plane moving across the stationary field of points of light, she remarked that it might also be a radioactive condor looking to lead its people home. Yeah. I took the opportunity to acknowledge that, because of their distance from us, most of the stars we saw have probably moved or in some cases are no longer in existence. "Well, for not being there, they have been doing a good job guiding men's lives and movements for a long time". Okay, got it.

Moving along through Leadville to Breckenridge, we stopped at the Golden Burro café. Food sort of okay, service shitty. That's about all I have to say on that.

Got to Breckenridge, we were early and we knew that. SO Kathy took me to the Breckenridge distillery and then to the Broken Compass brewery. I see a pattern there. Then we found a quiet place in the local graveyard to take a nap in the car until we were called by GL7.

Grand Lodge on Peak 7 is a wonderful place. It is a series of condos or apartments that have been sold as timeshares. A very expensive way to vacation unless you use it every year. And even then not cheap. But the place is magnificent, the staff congenial and super helpful. The facility is entirely first class.

The only thing they don't have up there at 9500 feet is oxygen, air, the stuff we try to fill our lungs with. I suffered the whole week with altitude sickness of one sort or another. Anxiety, apnea, confusion, sleeplessness, and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember. At one time I felt like I was having a heart attack, there was a feeling of iron bands around my chest and a baseball jammed next to my heart. I also think I was dehydrating, because I peed very little.

My son and his wife and daughter were our guests. I hope they had a memorable time. I do remember we had a discussion that no one was communicating what we were doing. I made the mistake of saying that I never had any plans and was just waiting for someone to tell me what to do. The lid came off the pot! I was told by both wives that I was supposed to be making the decisions and I was supposed to tell everyone what was happening next. The other mistake was in trying to leave the room while I was being taken to task.  By the way, I never make plans while vacationing, I like to surprise myself.

The rest of the week sort of went okay. Kathy cooked most of the meals, and I had no appetite. I took son and DIL whitewater rafting. Jill had never been before and the rapids were about class two. Son said it was quite a workout, I guess pushing computer buttons has softened him up a little.

Fortunately, I brought my notebook computer. Every night the granddaughter wanted to see the pictures of family and the dogs. It was a bonding time, and I didn't have to exert myself.

The week ended fairly well. Baby grew two inches after drinking a gallon and a half of milk. Everybody got along all right. We ate almost everything the wives bought at the local grocery.

The kids got to their airplane on time and Kathy and I headed off for Part 2 of the retirement tour.

(To be Continued........)

Homecoming

My daughter has been in Korea teaching English to Korean children as well as helping some of her fellow teachers expand their knowledge of our very confusing language.

Because of circumstances, upon which we will elaborate later, she is coming back to Plano, Texas, to live and hopefully work. She left Incheon airport at 4:50 PM. She will arrive at DFW at about 3:30 PM, all on the 19th of July. Of course these are all local times, so stop trying to figure out if she is a Time Lord or something.

Her mother (my wife of 42+ years) has had me cleaning and moving stuff around for the last week or two. I had to take several pieces of furniture to our storage locker, and bring a couple of things back.

But I don't mind, because it's for my Daughter.

I also had to call USAA to re-add her to my insurance policy. She will be getting her own policy when she gets a job. Insurance companies make more money by issuing separate policies.

Her mother and I will be meeting her at Terminal D, International arrival gate. If she is hungry, we will stop for food. Otherwise, we will get her Home and she can get in bed and sleep. If it is like last time she came home, she will take about four days to realign her sleep schedule to Texas time.

I am sure she will, as she can, regale us with tales of the Far East and her adventures there. We have had the opportunity to Skype her and IM her on Facebook. At least, I have. Her mother is not very tech savvy and relies on Emails. She will also visit her brother and his wife and daughter. The daughter-in-law shares the teaching gene that is deeply embedded in this family.

I have been telling the dogs that she is coming home and they better be on their best behavior. The younger boxer has been trying sooo hard to sit still on command. But boxers are energy beings. They are full of it until after a two mile walk in 90 degree heat. But it takes them only an hour to recover and they are ready to do it again.

The next thing I do, after publishing this to the web, will be to go to Braum's. It is a dairy store in Oklahoma and North Texas. She has requested either Mint Chocolate Chip or Dulce de Leche ice cream. I hope they have both.

Then I will be directed to the back yard and be instructed to clean up after the aforementioned boxers. If the daughter wants to barefoot in the grass, we don't want any squishies between the toes.

Ahhh, the daughter is coming home. We leave for the airport in about two hours. I. Am. Excited.

Retired?

Today is the start of a new chapter in  my life. Or at least a sub-chapter.

I have just started my part-time status with the Home Depot. I have had 24 1/2 years as a full time employee (associate). Since the offer was made to put money into HD stock and then a company sponsored 401k plan, I have done so. When the EXPO Design Centers closed down, I was unsure of future employment status with an Orange Apron, so I moved money to an annuity. And ever since I have been issued W-2 or 1099 reported paychecks, I have been contributing to the Social Security funds.

Because I have been taking almost 20% of my normal paycheck and setting it aside for my future, my take-home pay has been reduced. And that is all right with me, because I have learned to live within my means. Paying cash is a great way to go. It also means my SS check will be real close to the amount I had been taking home already. I am not pressured into depleting my investments just to get by. I also do not have to work to supplement my income so I can eat or pay the normal day-to-day bills: utilities, phone, insurance.

I am working part-time, however, for a rather altruistic reason, as well as mental and physical health reasons.
The customers at my store are kind of like my groupies. They com to me with problems or stupid ideas or with no clue as to how to accomplish what they want. Or what would make their lives easier while working on a project. And there are also a lot of folks in my store who have no idea how to solve these problems, or what resources we have to help our clientele. NO, I don't have ALL the Answers, but I am able to fabricate a solution based on what we have in the store. And that is why people come back to our store: They are looking for someone to at least try to think through the problem with them. And if that person knows what we have available in the store, so much the better.

The mental and physical reasons are just that I get to interact with some good people and some really strange ones (you know who you are), and that I am not sitting on my ever widening ass waiting to grow weak and die. The above-mentioned problem solving keeps the mind active, alert to the concept that there may be no solution, but an alternative could be hiding just around the corner. I am also constantly training my department supervisor and store manager. Just little things, but slowly they are better learning how to do their respective jobs. And, I am still the only one in the hardware department who will carry compressors or table saws or whole wingcap displays down a ladder. No one else has the strength or willingness to do stupid things like that. But it is something that has to be done in order to have merchandise on the floor to sell.

But now, I am part-time. That means getting between 20 and 30 hours a week of pay. It means being home two more days a week with my spouse. And that may be a good reason, too. Seven days a week together may result the shortening of one of our lives by suspicious means. She watches a LOT of the crime dramas on TV. Is she studying up for something?

One thing is happening lately, with this extra time: I have started on chapter one, verse one, of  Book One of the "Eternal List of the Honey-Do's". She  has been retired for the last two years and has been writing these series of Books. I think she is finishing Book Four any day now.

I have a feeling I will be working harder in "retirement" than I had been before.

But I can stay up later to watch more Netflix.

VISITORS, PLEASE LEAVE A NOTE!

WOW! I got a viewer from Lithuania! Land of my grandparents. Thank you.

Even though it was purely an accident or a blog roulette thingy. It was nice to see that. I had gotten a couple of readers from Germany and Poland and mostly the US, so it was a nice thing to see that.

I wish I could get folks to just respond and say "Hi!", but doing that to strangers in this safety of anonymity takes us all out of our shells, our comfort zone, our hiding and sneaking and peeking and scurrying away. In a previous post, after screaming out some of my pain, a friend who I regard as a loving and caring person wrote a quick note telling me to hang in there and all this crap will pass eventually. He is right. It will. Most of it anyway.

I blog surf occasionally as well, just to see what others have posted. How others lives are doing. When I got to the bunch from Norway, I couldn't read a blessed word with all their funny shaped letters and all. but I saw their photos. I saw their smiles. They took the time to share the nice stuff in their lives.

Of course, I also saw a number of American blogs. Some of these were peaceful. Several of them were dark and unappealing. Some were quite strange. Some were advertisements.

And with all of them, I peeked and moved on. As I said before, many blogs on the random surfing list have not been updated for quite some time. Did they just get bored or realize no one was looking or responding?

A blog (where did that term come from anyway?) is a personal thing, a thing of vanity.A chance to open up and let others see what we want them to see. And whether you post random thoughts, poetry, photos, stories, light or dark images, If we continue posting, we may run out of ideas to hide behind and then we may show the world , or at least the minuscule portion of it that reads blogs, what we are Really about. And that part may be the scariest: the fact that someone out there, no matter how few, knows something Real about us. Something we let slip. There are also those of us who really don't care what anyone else sees here. We never told anyone about our musings or our postings. No one is interested in what we think. We just put stupid stuff out there and let it be done with.

So, next time I blogsurf, I may leave notes, thanking people for sharing a minute part of their lives. Whether that part was just now, or three years ago. I may open a door. I may make a friend. I may encourage someone to participate in this interwebs thing we got here. Or I may raise questions. Or I may remind someone there is a part of them out there they had forgotten about. And they should either update it or delete it. Or they may just shrug their shoulders and say WTF? and ignore my outreach.

So if you have gotten this far, just leave a short message. Your first name and your city. and the address of your blog, (if you wish) so I can see what you want someone to see. I have gotten almost 300 hits on my writings and I wonder who saw my attempts at writing my thoughts. If you don't, it's okay.

But if we all start communicating with each other....

Steam (blowing off some)

Maybe this is what blogs are supposed to be for: getting emotions out in print so they don't eat at you.

Not the best time in my life.

My brother is killing himself. He has only part of a kidney and he keeps on getting himself rushed to the hospital for a detox event. Was told his blood pressure was high enough to blow his ears off, and then afterwards, they were pumping fluids into him to bring it back up so his one partial kidney could function. Because of his addictions and self destructive bent, I did not invite him to my son's wedding a few years back. He is twelve years younger than I am. We have not been close at all. Mostly my fault, as I have allowed my wife's family to drag me away from mine.

My back is continually sore. My left calf feels like "almost-a-charley-horse" twinge to it constantly. I do not feel rested when I wake up in the morning. If I could afford it, I would like to go to a nice warm beach somewhere and watch the water and girls in very skimpy swimsuits.

My daughter will be terminating her contract with the Anyang School District early and she will be coming home from Korea. We are waiting for her doctor to tell her that it is all right to travel. She is experiencing problems with the pollution blowing up from China and has a parasitic inflamation. Her mother (my wife of 42 years) is anxious and upset about the whole thing. She wonders why I cannot be as anxious and upset as she is. I tried to tell her I had that "Y" chromosome, and I have taken the advice of Douglas Adams to heart: "Don't Panic"!

She has also announced to me yesterday that she had been planning to move us out of this house by December or early next year. (Insert a Tim Allen questioning grunt here) She we have to repair a bunch of furniture that she will be selling in June. We have to move furniture around as we sell it. We have to take a bunch of photos of said furniture. We have to make a series of brochures to sell the furniture. When she said she wanted to sell it at a profit, I said "here's a dollar for all of it. That's pure profit. We had this shit shoved into our lives without requesting it. I never wanted it. I never asked for it. You were the one who HAD to have all this clutter." And that's when the fight really began. Oh, she says she has a dealer coming by to make an offer in June. So we have to have everything ready by then.

Now go back to the previous paragraph and insert the fact that she wants ME to do all of this for her: repairing, oiling, cleaning, moving.

Now, if we are really selling all this furniture, it is mainly because she is panicking about the upcoming addition to the family. Our daughter will be staying with us either until she gets her own apartment, she gets married, or we sell the place. Or I win the lottery.

And then there is the matter of health insurance.

I was so looking forward to retirement, or semi-retirement. Working only a few days a week at the Orange Box. Taking my time to do the yard work. Playing with power tools out in the garage. Walking the dogs.

The gods have other plans. They laugh at me.

Now this is assuming there are gods who can do such things.

I don't really know.

But I have to have somebody to blame.

a rose by any other name...

MY (our) granddaughter is 19 months old now and is learning to associate words with things and names with people. My wife has expressed the desire to be called "Oma", apparently a Germanic term for the female parent of the parent of the child: a grandmother.

She has sharply dismissed the notion that she be called "grandmother" as that was the term reserved for her mother's mother.  Grandma or Granny have also be quickly and loudly dismissed. She has always been firm in being called "Mother" or in less formal times "Mom". Ma or Mama or any lesser form was deemed inappropriate.

I am called Dad, Pop, Old guy, Old man, Hey, Male Parental Unit, or any other name my kids want to call me. I even answer to Carl, Yak, Carl Joseph, or "Wanna beer?".

So as my(our) granddaughter grows and begins speech patterns and recognition of Naming Things, I was issued the title of "Grampa Carl". This is because her other father of a parent is known as "Grampa Jim". I don't think either one of us cares what we are called, just as long as Julia Rose (the child in question) is excited to see us, plays with us, gives us kisses and hugs, and is willing to return to her parents when the diaper needs changing.

My dad was known to twelve grandchildren as "Grampa Yak". He never chose his name, it just fit.

If I am to be blessed with additional offspring of my offspring, I may earn the title of Grampa Yak. But as for now, I will take great pride in being spoken to in a language that I do not understand because it has not yet developed fully. I will understand the look of joy and the warmth of hugs. MY granddaughter can call me anything she wants.

Except "Granny"

ever new, ever learning

well, I got my new "smarter-than-me" phone. I played with it for a while and realized I had to see the folks at T-Mobile to get a smaller SIM card. Bigger phone: smaller SIM.

I have been playing with it little by little, learning the various functions. I have discussed it with a few friends who have smartphones and asked their advice. I figured out the weather channel, the Home Depot app, instant messaging was easy, got the thing set up to get Email, connected to my secure WiFi modem, and took a few pictures. I dumped some of the energy sapping "bloatware".  I will get a storage card sometime in the near future, but that doesn't seem to be a high priority item just yet.

I will learn YouTube, NetFlix, and how to more effectively use the mapping stuff. I will peruse the apps available and decide what I want to pollute my system with. I did make one phone call. It was to my sister-in-law who was thrilled beyond reality that I chose to call her first. Made her day special after some not very happy things had happened.

I am updating my "contacts" list. I am realizing I do not have very many contacts. But I can fluff that out with doctors and restaurants and casual acquaintances. I will even set pictures alongside each of these names. Someday.

I have taken the thing with me on our evening walks with the dogs, and turned it on once or twice to amaze myself that it all still works out there in the open street. Walking two 70 pound boxers puts limits on how much playing I can do while walking.

And today, in the middle of the afternoon, I realized there was one thing I had not yet learned how to do. I think we can all agree that, even though capabilities have far exceeded original design, a telephone is basically designed for voice communication, or at least that was the starting premise. Well, my wife called me! And I had no idea how to tell the chunk of plastic in my hand that I was willing to talk with her. I saw the green and red symbols and I pressed them repeatedly. It was only after I came home that I played with he phone and realized I had to swipe to answer!

So the old dog learned a new skill today: How to answer a handheld computer that wants to also be a telephonic communication device.

Telemarketer call (in my mind, at least)

I am sure many of you have gotten the call from an unknown number that flashes "windows" or "Novatel" or 'Security" or some such on your caller ID. This happens, I am told, mostly to older folks, like me. The assumption is that the recipients of the call are older and not really computer savvy.

Usually the call starts out something like: "Hello, this is Patel from Windows. How are you today?" Note that it is not from Microsoft or MacAfee or Norton

" I'm all right" you may respond. Then he gets into the spiel: "There has been a notification of unusual activity sent to us that indicates you have a virus downloaded into your computer."

You may respond a few different ways. "How did you get this information?" or "Are you from Microsoft?' or "Which computer is it?" or "What is the IP address of the infected unit?" or "Oh my gosh, how did that happen?" or "How do I fix it?"

His response will indicate it is the computer running Windows 7. He will have no idea what the IP address is and the last two responses make him smile. He will then instruct you to go to the computer, turn it on and enter a string of numbers and letters into the address bar after you log into your browser. This, he says will connect you with his computer and he will fix the problem for you. Once he gets there, however, he will  see additional errors that must be fixed to prevent further problems, and that will cost some big money. While he is in your computer he is planting a worm or a backdoor virus so he can get in whenever he wants to to get your passwords, even though you change them daily, and any other data he can glean.

If he cannot give you and IP address, he is just talking shit. He is scamming.So tell him you are running on an Apple computer with OS8 and don't need his help.

Orrrrrrr....maybe something like this:

Me: "Hello, how are you today?"
Patel (or whatever his name is): " Hello, this is Patel from Windows. I am calling today to advise you your computer has sent a notice that it is infected with a very dangerous virus."
M: Oh my gosh, how did that happen?
P: It may have been sent by way of an Email or a downloaded file.
M: what can we do about it?
P: Well, can you go to your computer right now and turn it on?
M: Yeah, sure. Okay, it is coming on now.
P: After it comes on, I will need you to give me your Email address.
M: Okay, it's Coldone@AOL.com
P: And your password?
M: the password? I don't think I'm supposed to give that out
P:It's all right, we are are here trying to help you.
M: Okay, it's Hotzipper
P: Is your internet browser up yet?
M: Yes, it's loading up now.
P: All right. now enter the following into the address bar www.scambastards.com and hit enter
M: Hang on a second, I'm not a fast typer. to the side "How long until we have it?"
P: What was that?
M: Oh, just trying to get this address in.
P: Okay
M: My browser is a little slow sometimes. My grandson says I should get something better than a dial-up service.
P: Yes, then things will load a lot faster and you can get more data and other information with a lot less wait time.
M: Okay, we got it!
P: what is that?
M: We have your physical address. And the address of your computers.
P: What do you mean?
M: You, sir, have been speaking with the NSA. We have tracked the sourcing of this call. We have a Predator drone about 10 minutes away. It carries a high explosive ordinance package and is en route to your location. I am advising you to evacuate the premises before the launch is executed. You have, let's see, about eight minutes to get out of there or hope your life insurance is paid up. Have a nice day.

And then hang up.

out for delivery...

I can't believe my anticipation.

I ordered a new phone from a website in New York called cell2get.com last Monday. About twenty minutes later they called me and said my purchase was being shipped out as we spoke. They sent me Email confirmation and a tracking number as I requested. It was being sent at no additional cost via the Unite States Postal Service. USPS has a website, USPS.com, where I was able to enter the tracking number and see where the package was. They also have a service where their computer will send your texting cell phone an update of wherever it changes direction. This morning at 3:40 in the AM I was informed it was in Coppell, Texas and being sorted to be sent to Plano, where I live. It arrived at Plano at 8:43 to be sorted again.

The most recent text was it was "Out For Delivery" at 10:53 am.

So now I am like a little kid, waiting for Santa or the Easter Bunny or whatever childhood character you want to profess knowledge of.

About a year ago my wife decided for me that I needed a mobile communication device so she could find me when she needed me. I resisted because sometimes I just don't want to be found. But after a couple of health and other family emergencies, I am now aware that it is in my best interests to stay in touch with my partner of 42+ years.

I have had a stupid phone-the most basic of T-mobile phones-for the last year. After talking with my sons and interacting with the folks at work, I decided that I would jump both feet into the best technology I was willing to pay for. I read a bunch of reviews and asked a lot of questions. I decided that the Samsung Galaxy S4 was a very good phone for the price. I shopped prices and plans. When the Galaxy S5 was released, the S4 price dropped. So I made the commitment and ordered my chosen personal computer and communication device.

And now it is "Out For Delivery"

And I am excited

found this while blog surfing

Found this on another blog posted in 2010. Boy is this ever the truth! It sums up one of my previous posts.

Will someone please allow the gifted people who are in front of our students to TEACH them what they NEED

what direction should I take?

Life is all about decisions

What direction should I take on this blog thing is one of those decisions

I had a chat with a friend of mine and she was commenting on different personalities and said to me (unrelated to blog posting) that I was always wise enough to see two or three sides to any discussion or argument.

I was thinking that my additions to the cyberworld might be the stuff of provocation. Seeing who I could get to rise to the bait and start some sort of conflicting dialogue. A spam war maybe. That would generate traffic and then I could get the advertisers to put relevant ads of busty women inviting you to play their internet games of war and destruction.

I could be like Rush Limbaugh on his "stop Hillary" campaign (how did that work out for ya, Rushbo?) But I have more brains and less desire for cranial calcification.

I have seen a few of the random sites where folks have posted pictures of family and friends to share around. Kind of like a Facebook, but less public. A few have kind words or inspiration in ways not made up by the greeting card companies. Thank you, John Checki.

One friend posts pictures of insects. He bought a camera with a macro lens and finds the beauty in all the little things everyone overlooks every day. Walter Klockers, you also inspire me to look closely at what is around me.

I still have no idea what I'm going to do with this forum, because things change in my brain from day to day.

Hence the Random Thoughts from a Random Mind tagline.

When my dogs take me on our daily patrol around the neighborhood, flashes of brilliance streak across my brain. I have conversations with famous and powerful people and ideas for stories just begging to be written.

When we get back from the walk, there are treats to be given out, a spouse to be pampered, and other distractions. Those moments of cosmic shaking revelation fade rapidly. But as I sit here, I realize there are no readers of these comments, or very few, so my discussions and revelations will have no effect on the future of mankind.

In closing, I show a picture of my 19 month old granddaughter, Julia. She brings joy to my life when I get to see her. She knows whenever I come over to her house, we get our jackets on and go OUTSIDE. Where the world is. And all the things everyone else overlooks. She sees them as new stuff, and helps my ageing eyes and mind see them anew.

A more recent photo

You have probably seen the photo I publicly posted as an intro to my blog. Yeah, the one holding the son who is now 6'4" and 300 pounds. He is 36 years old. The photo you see above is me approximately now at the Oktoberfest in Breckenridge Colorado. Well, that was last October (2013). But, it is a lot closer to how I have widened and sagged in the last 36+ years. And the hair is a lot more silver (gray), but that is my daughter's fault> and she is proud of every lighter colored hair.

I realize no one will probably ever see this blog thing, even though ONCE I was viewed by someone in Poland, and twice in Germany. They had a better chance of understanding what I was posting than I would if I read their stuff. Most students learn some English in Europe as part of their normal studies. I can't find a school here that teaches Polish.

all children held back

Now to my other educational rant: "No Child Left Behind"

What Bullshit!

This was a program publicized by a very well meaning first lady, who, unfortunately, was also the wife of the governor of Texas. Yes that's right: Laura Bush.

It is a very "progressive" or "liberal" idea. The idea that every child would be given the opportunity and education to stay with his/her classmates, no matter what the cost. This applied to all children, regardless of race, ethnicity, religion or even, yes, even learning ability.

Now I can see from a parents' point of view, that my child should be given the best education possible. If additional tutoring is necessary, I want my child to have it. I ant my child to have good grades and be admitted to the finest college in the world. I want him to be the doctor that cures cancer, stops global warming, cuts energy costs, and has weekends off to watch football with me.

Problem is, ain't gonna happen for ALL the kids.

Teachers have 20-30 kids per classroom. That means they have only 2-3 minutes per hour to personally spend with each student. Or spend the hour teaching the assigned curriculum to the whole class, hoping they catch what he/she is trying to implant in the young minds.

Then there are the parents. There are several types. First are the parents of the future cart pusher at the local supermarket. Their kid, as a result of genetics or trauma, will never advance beyond the basic service level in life. They will never be able to leave home because they are not capable of self-care. At least most of these will be able to use the restroom properly. They want the teacher to spend at least half a day bringing their little prince/princess along.

Then, on the other end of the scale, are the parents of bright kids. The aforementioned cure-for-cancer-doctors. They want their child to be stimulated, encouraged, enriched, advanced. And they want the teacher to spend half a day doing that. The kids are bored out of their skulls with the regular curriculum, and find ways to make trouble for the class and the teacher, just for something to do.

Somewhere in the middle are the parents who just hope their kids can read and write and get a job. And eventually move out of the house. And once again there are sub-divisions here as well. Some of the parents are grateful for the babysitting service school provides, and complain about why taxes are so high to pay for all this. But also, and all teachers thank their personal gods for these folks, there are involved parents. These angels are involved with their offspring. They check to make sure homework is done. They make contact with the educators to assure them they are available to help. And, blessings be upon them, they volunteer to help at the school or school functions, to exemplify responsible behavior.

Now about these students. As I said, there will always be children that whether by trauma or genetic code will be less capable. Retards. An ugly word, but it fits well. Some of these kids are brought to the mainstream classroom by caregivers every day in motorized carts who have to help them eat and then clean them when they mess their pants. They will never, ever be a contributing part of society. But we cannot "leave them behind". Once again I call "Bullshit"! These caregivers are paid by the state or the community. There are hundreds of thousands of dollars spent on these kids whose IQs are about two points higher than a rutabaga. Money that, properly placed, could provide for those advanced curriculum kids. Computers, science labs, advanced learning programs, field trips, mentors, all the things necessary to challenge the brain and strengthen it to move forward even more. I am told the programs to help these kids advance are in place or available. But somehow there is no money to implement them.

In ancient societies, when a town or village or kingdom was subject to possible invasion or conflict, the food resources were distributed such that the protectors, the soldiers, were allotted more. That was so that when the time came to do battle, they would have the strength to defend the community. We are in a similar situation. We are in a battle with the world for resources, scientific breakthroughs, economic prosperity. But we are allocating our resources to not leave the sick and lame behind. We are starving our potential economic and scientific warriors so they cannot compete.

No Child Left Behind. Advanced by Laura Bush. Forced first upon the schools of Texas, and then the whole of the United States. Because she has a soft spot in her heart for the weaker mind.

Look who she married.

Education shortcomings

As we traveled across the great frozen north last week, we had tho opportunity to interact with several people that we will, unfortunately, never see again. As we chatted over a meal or in the lounge car of our Amtrak train (more on that in another posting), we discussed many things of more or less importance in this world.

One thing that still stays with me, however, is the American educational system. Two items in particular: 1) Teaching to the "standardized" test, and 2) "No child left behind".

Our society has become told we are "results-oriented". We must get all the information to the students and they have to learn basic facts. The test that we administer will insure that the teachers are teaching the right stuff. And the little ones are supposed to be able to regurgitate all this back in the form of little dots on a Scantron form.

The lie here is that the test are all the same and truly standardized. As the TAKS and TAAS tests were developed and issued in the State of Texas, there were somewhere between 12 and 18 different variations of the tests. (The current STAAR test are probably not much different.) And that was at each grade level!

 That does not sound like a standardization to me.

The tests were (are) given based on the teachers and counselors and whatever school psychologists opinion of what that student could pass. You see, the teachers are graded on what their students did on these tests. Some teachers in some districts got early looks at the tests and made sure their kids were able to answer the test questions. Note I did not say the kids were TAUGHT anything, just that those teachers taught the test. The kids passed and some of those teachers are flipping burgers somewhere when their shenanigans were discovered.

Once the tests cycled through a few times, the teachers caught on to what was necessary to get their kids through the system and addressed those items. So our future leaders were fed the answers and little else. I'm sure the curriculum was followed as written, but then the curriculum was devised to make sure the students were able to answer the test questions first, and then learn any enrichment stuff as a sidebar.

The kids are not taught to think for themselves, just get through the test. But maybe that is what the business of education wants. The testing companies make a LOT of money with their "standardized tests".

I am now hearing/reading about several parents who are attempting to "opt out" of the testing cycles. Good Luck. The companies who generate millions of dollars with these tests have got the lawmakers in their pockets to mandate testing just so a kid can progress from middle to high school and even to graduate.

Another item is that even those kids who take the tests and fail miserably will be given special classes to be taught the test and how to pass it. And if they fail again, they will be given additional coaching. Until they pass a test.

So our children are not being taught History, Geography, basic Math facts, and so on, but how to take a test.

So the teachers and administrators can keep their jobs, and the policymakers in Austin (or insert your state capital here) can pat each other on the back and announce what a fine job we are doing.

Is it any wonder Texas ranks 46th in education?

travel thots

As I sit here in the Sacramento AMTRAK station typing away on my bloggy thing, I was reminded as I signed in to the free Wi-Fi, that all my inputs to the interwebs "could be visible to others". As I bounced around the various sites, mainly finding out I missed the Texas Lotto by six numbers, I avoided typing in any passwords or other dangerous personal data.

Then again, who really cares what I have to say anyway? The tracking bot on this bloggy thing says that 47 people have found their way to my ramblings. As I figured out in my last rant, most of those are probably random blog surfers, looking for weird stuff. My stuff may be a little strange, but it hasn't been weird enough to elicit any feedback or comments. I am pretty sure as well, that no one is interested enough to "follow" my spewing of words out into the great uncleansed world wide web.

Now as the warning suggests, using the unsecured server does put me at risk if I choose to carelessly share data that should be secured. ORRRRR, someone just might be forced into reading this bloggy thing even before it gets published. What an unnerving thought.
But
Over the next few days, I will be using unsecured servers all over the great Northwest. And in some places, I won't be able to make any connection at all. Not that any of THAT matters, because the only folks even looking at this are either blog surfers or hackers of the AMTRAK WiFi. Neither of which are folks I'm especially concerned about.

Be@Peace

blog surfing

I just played a little with the "more blogs" button. I read a little bit in some of them. I didn't expect them to be private, because here they are on the interwebs.

One of the things I noticed was that a lot of the blogs have had no activity for some time. I wonder why. Was it lack of time? a lack of stuff to share? waning interest in becoming open to the world to see?

One other time I did the "NextBlog" thing, I got to see a bunch of blogs from Scandinavian countries where I was unable to decipher the language and they used some strange letters.

Today, the theme seemed to be folks having some sort of religious bent. Bible quotes were evident. And various references to god and prayers and such. I am developing some personal thoughts about these matters and may one day share them on this form of communication. I know no one will read any of it anyway, so I will probably write things that will offend everybody.

I had hoped some of the stuff I wrote last time would be picked up by the NSA or FBI or CIA or some other alphabet soup agency. No such luck. Either that or their views didn't register on the view count. How ever am I to get recognized and get AdSense to send me my million dollars?

More to come.

I hope.........

where I went to school is none of your business

As I venture onto all of these social media sites, I am asked a lot of questions. I am happy to give my name, and sometimes my hometown. But the they start asking all kinds of personal questions, such as my place of employment, where I went to school, and the school before that, and before that. Where have I lived? Where have I visited? Phone number, Email, Height, weight (like I'm gonna tell the truth on that one), cholesterol level, social security number, last movie I went to see, books I've read, people I've associated with.

Yes, I realize this is SOCIAL media. They say they only want to help me connect with others of similar interests. What they don't tell you is their mission statement as collectors of HUMINT: Human Intelligence. They are probably directly connected to NSA and are feeding them all the data you consider personal, but are willing to just throw out there on some sort of chat line or instant message conduit or facebook or BlogSpot or AOL instant chat.

All the people who know me, and who I want to know already have ways to contact me. I have no need to feed the American form of KGB or Taliban or whatever super secret organizations may be out there all my personal info.

So, I will tell them I was born in Riga, Latvia, and I went to school at the Sorbonne in Paris after graduating from Winesap High School in Bat Cave, North Carolina. I currently work as a spammer and a hacker for the New York Daily News and Pravda. My contacts include Jerry Jones, Eric Snowden (my greatest hero), Fidel Castro, the real, still alive Osama Bin Laden, Kim Jong Un, Michelle Obama, and her soulmate Vladimir Putin.

I will say I have travelled to China, Viet Nam, Moscow, Havana, Caracas, Munich, Cairo, and Lucerne.

Because I am forced to log into the IRS and Social Security sites, they have my address and SSAN as well as one of my Email addresses. (along with my current IP address).

Now all of the above is just a load of crap, but maybe, just maybe, putting all those trigger words together (oops, I forgot AL QAEDA) will make the NSA, FBI or whatever spy-on-Americans agency out there look at my blog. The more hits I get, the better chances I have of getting sponsors for the site. And that means money in my pocket.

See, the American dream of greed is not yet dead.

But I still won't tell you where I went to school!

update on BofA

well, BofA fixed the website! I can check balances and pay bills.

With all the scare tactics that the American press uses, the one I pay attention to is the hacking of bank accounts. Yes, I am concerned enough that I check the activity on our accountS at least every other day. My wife asked if I was checking up on her, and I replied that I wasn't checking up on her, but on the activity in her account. She has shopped at Target and was issued a new debit card because of that.

I also watch my investment accounts. I am within a few months of semi-retirement, and watch the value of my accounts. I am planning on leaving Home Depot, albeit temporarily, in July. My wife would like to travel to some exotic place like Paris or Grindelwald or Macchu Picchu. Maybe Alaska. I will be starting my Social Security collection (after contributing for the last 48 years) and will accompany her anywhere she would like to go. After we travel a bit, I will most likely go back to the orange box and work at least part time for the camaraderie and challenge of helping people who have no idea which end of a screwdriver to use. But after performing closing duties for the last three years, I will only work from 9 to 3, Monday through Friday.

Speaking of which, it's about time for me to log off and leave for said place now.

Bank Of America OnLine banking is sucking bad right now

Bank of America. Too big too fail. Too stupid to fix their website so I can check balances and pay bills. I deposited a check into savings yesterday and was told to check to see that it had cleared and the money was fully in my account. I was able to get the sign-in page once or twice today, but it never let me sign in. I got the little swirly arrow and was told to wait for bank of America, but the secure.bankofamerica.login.com never processed and never allowed me to log in. I tried on two other computers and got even less:NOTHING!
The idiots are willing to take your money. They may even let you have it back eventually. But figuring out where it is and how much, well, that's another thing.

On a side note, almost everywhere I went today, the humans operating their computer masters were complaining that their systems were slower than usual. Hmmmm.

That being said, any other website I was trying, seemed to work all right. Even the post office site so I could send a package over the Pacific to Korea.

Well, I found a FaceBook page for BofA and sent them a message. Then I sent it again on their "Help" page. We shall now sit back and wait to see what happens. Or IF anything happens.

A new beginning (wait! aren't all beginnings "new"?)

I have just  discovered that I am able to establish my own "blog" with the help of the weird folks at Google. I have never done anything like this before and will probably never have any one read the comments made here, but I will try to put random thoughts here whenever I have a thought I think is worth posting.
My daughter will say that I usually think outside the box because I never found out where the box was. Or that someone once tried to put me in a box and I escaped and vowed to not be put back in.
So the adventure begins....