Monthly Archives: August 2011

My Writing Style, or Lack Thereof

I don’t know if the word envious is right, but for lack of a better way of saying it, I guess I’ll say that I’m envious of some of the serious writers whose blogs I read.  They have an intense focus on writing with the eye and perspective of a skilled craftsman – and this will, I believe, help them in getting their works published.  I’ve read how they choose the persona through which they tell their stories.  How they have found that publishers favor a pure genre (such as mystery) as opposed to mixed genres (such as science fiction – romance).  These are people who in an earlier time would have apprenticed an artist such as Leonardo da Vinci and learned the ways to master their art.

On the other hand, I write this blog because I enjoy it.

During the day my writing is structured.  On the other hand my pleasure writing sometimes happens because I sit down at the keyboard and the muse takes over.  At other times, it’s an issue about which I believe someone should write.  However, when I write for enjoyment I sadly do not draw on the tools and techniques that I see other authors use. 

Maybe it’s the rebel in me.

In some cases, in fact, I almost cheer for those who forego the rules and bravely chart their own new style.  Who heard of techno thrillers before Tom Clancy?  Malcolm Gladwell certainly took business writing in a whole new direction and J. K. Rowling created something quite a bit different from classic fantasy or children’s fiction.  Picasso understood the principles classic principles of art before he applied his own perspective; so did M.C. Escher and Maya Lin.  Who imagined a painting of melted watches before Dali?

So I guess I write in my own way because I can and I want to.  Besides, since I’m the one writing, I just got compared with Escher and Dali!

Irene, the Finale

Bottom line is that on Saturday night I made it home from the Emergency Operations Center.  I had to drive almost 20 miles out of my way to avoid downed trees and flooded streets, but I made it home.

Almost…

Most of the way home was dark.  I mean dark as in no streetlights, house lights, etc., dark.  Several times I came upon a tree across the road a little quicker than I would have imagined at 25 miles per hour type dark.  My street was dark with the exception of one neighbor and our house, but the water was a bit high.  It would have been fine for and SUV but my Ford Focus was at a disadvantage.  I probably could have made it to the driveway but about 100 feet short of it the water looked too deep, so I turned and parked the car.  It was a block and a half wade home.

Spent yesterday trying to rest up but it turned out that we didn’t have to work today, so today was “clean the debris day.”

I apologize for not being very interesting today, but I’ve had enough interesting for a while.  I’ll try to do better tomorrow.

Coping with Irene

I’ve spent much of the day working at the city’s Emergency Operations Center (EOC) as a volunteer.  The EOC normally looks like a very large conference room, but when something bad happens, they plug in a gazillion more phones and arrange the tables according to Incident Management functions.  We radio operators use an office just outside the EOC. This works well because trying to hear a noisy transmission over a lot of background noise is almost impossible.

The storm so far has been less fierce than feared, although you might not catch this from the news coverage. The third string of meteorologists and news readers are breathlessly reporting the conditions in terms far more exciting than what I’m actually seeing. The requisite camera crew has “the talent” (the person who gets the speaking part) standing out in the rain and imitating a mime performing “walking against the wind.”  I’ve never quite figured this tradition out. Maybe it’s like a pagan sacrifice only instead of throwing someone into the volcano, one person has to get wet and windblown to appease the storm gods. Or it just could
be that some people will do anything to be seen on television.

At this time the center of the hurricane has just passed us. The actual eye looks to be just out in the Atlantic, but this is a good way to guestimate when things are going to wind down. However, there may be one major exception. High tide occurs in about 20 minutes with the winds coming from the northeast toward Chesapeake Bay. All the rain we’ve had is trying to run east through the streams and rivers into the Chesapeake Bay and the ground is saturated. We now have the tide pushing more water in and preventing the rainwater from going out. Add the wind which will push additional water back up the rivers and there could be significant flooding. If so, people will forced to seek high ground
and many will need to make their way to the shelters set up in area schools.

The role we hams have in all this is to provide communications between the EOC and the shelters if telephone communications break down. Several of the shelters have lost power and with it their regular telephones, but for the most part we’re
playing a supporting role. That’s okay with me since I’ve had my fill of slogging through the scene of the disaster. Besides, supporting roles are the ones that go to the character actors who seem to have more fun than the leading men and women. Even better, character actors don’t show up in the “Before” and “After” articles for losing their looks when they got older.

Since I was able to connect with the internet, I thought I’d relate what it’s like to serve in a supporting role during a hurricane. In a nutshell, it’s kind of like being at work. Everyone is overworked – one of our operators has been on site for over 24 hours; underpaid – what do you expect, we’re volunteers; and under-appreciated. Somehow when people are watching everything they own blow or float away, they tend not to be effusive in their praise.

However, the people involved want to make their contribution, however small, toward helping out.

 

Waiting for Hurricane Irene

I’ve spent the whole day getting things in order to minimize the effects of Hurricane Irene.  The kids picked up most of the loose items in the back yard.  This is important because in high winds things can go flying.  One of the biggest threats in a hurricane is window breakage; flying objects break windows and let the wind into the house.  Sometimes letting high winds into the house is sufficient to raise the pressure and ultimately push the roof off a house.  I put everything into the garage and shed that I could.

I’ve also been coordinating the emergency communications for the area.  The ham radio operators have been getting ready to provide communications at the shelters, but it’s always a juggle between providing support and providing for their own families.  I think we’ll be able to handle both, although it’ll be a challenge.  In the meantime we’ve got the radios set up and checked out at the shelters.  There are more shelters open for this storm than most people can remember, but then the experts are expecting a lot of wind, rain and storm surge.

Right now the rain bands are just south of us according to radar, so it should be interesting fairly soon.   Naturally we expect the power to go out so we’ve moved food between the main refrigerator and the spare in the garage.  I plan on running the inner refrigerator on the generator.

My new radio room is upstairs, and has a window air conditioner and a television.  I suspect it may become the most popular room in the house if we lose power.  I ran an extension cord from this room to the generator yesterday.  It ain’t pretty, but I suspect it will work just fine.

As far as the blog, at least I wrote something.

What a Day!

I’m busy getting things prepared just in case Hurricane Irene decides to drop by.  Projections are we should see the first big rain sometime Saturday.  It’s too early to project much beyond that.

Today I spent updating the ham radio operators who may be called upon to provide communications.  Tomorrow night I’ve got a meeting and need to chat with the city’s Emergency Services representative about potential assignments.  No promises for a blog tomorrow.  And naturally come the weekend if we lose power the internet will be down, even if I do run the generator.

And to top it all off, you probably saw that we had a 5.8 earthquake earlier today.  It was more surprising than damaging.  It was the kids’ first earthquake experience; after they figured out what it was, they decided they were impressed.

And yesterday I thought a turtle infestation was dramatic!

 

Uncool! Uncool!

Many people with gardens are annoyed by animals that eat their produce before the humans even have a chance at it.  When I was growing up, the problem was rabbits.  Everyone had to protect their garden from those cute little bunnies with their voracious appetites; not to mention that once rabbits get enough to eat they, well, make more hungry rabbits.

Around here we also have a problem with deer.  If Thumper isn’t eating the plants, Bambi and friends are.  For the most part, those sweet little deer are like Godzilla sized locusts with voracious appetites.  They eat the vegetables, flowers and just about anything else that grows from the soil.

I’ve had my problems with rabbits and deer, but this year I had the hardest time figuring out what was stealing my tomatoes – or at least roughly half of my tomatoes.  I don’t mean half the number of tomatoes; I mean literally half of each tomato.

The other day I was picking tomatoes and as I looked into the plant I realized that something was looking back.

 

I am, apparently, suffering a plague of turtles.  These are properly known as Terrapene carolina carolina and are indigenous to the east coast.  Box turtles are known for their ability to not only retract into their shell but to close it up for further protection.  That being said, they’re eating my tomatoes just as efficiently as the cute little bunnies and doe-eyed, er, does.

While they normally have splashes of orange coloration I have to believe that it is being helped by the bright red tomatoes they are devouring.  The good news is that they can’t outrun me.  The bad news is that having a turtle infestation is so totally un-cool.

Character of Politics

I lived in Louisiana for a while and came to appreciate the Cajun view of politics.  It’s like LSU football – everybody in the state follows it, everybody talks about it but only a very small number are willing to suit up and face couple of thousand pounds of opposing athletes.   It’s much safer to stay away from the action and stick to talking about it instead. 

I mention this because in moving books and videos around I have come across several dealing with Huey Long, Louisiana governor, senator and potential threat to FDR.  Long was impeached in almost every office he held, but to him this was not an obstacle.  He proudly incorporated those events into his speeches, partly to demonstrate that he was different.  Today he’s a legend; when he was alive he was, shall we say, a character. 

We see a lot of characters in politics these days.  I’ll let you pick your favorite (or least favorite) on your own.  It’s easy to imagine how much more peaceful things might be without such eccentric individuals invading the halls of Congress, the local city council or even the PTA.  However, it struck me that some of the more colorful characters we see may actually be quite necessary to the progress this nation has enjoyed.

Military members are sometimes been exposed to people with opinions that are quite disrespectful to the military.  However members of the military, having sworn an oath to the Constitution, fight for the rights of all to enjoy their constitutional freedoms, including freedom of speech.  It’s easy to want to protect the rights of those with whom we agree, but it is more important to protect the rights of free expression for those who hold opposing opinions.  It is the ability to expose ourselves to different, even outrageous new ideas that has made a major impact on the American experience.  We don’t have to agree with these people or their ideas but it is the willingness to let them express their ideas that makes a difference.

Huey Long was different, it’s true.  However, so were Thomas Paine and Samuel Adams.  The radical ideas of John Adams we accepted (albeit slowly) and ultimately we declared our independence from Great Britain.  On the other hand, there were many with whom the majority couldn’t identify.  Today we recoil at the idea of slavery yet American icons such as George Washington and Thomas Jefferson were slaveholders.  It is the American desire to engage in debate concerning new and outrageous ideas that has taken us from where we started to where we are now.  It is only logical to assume that it will continue to carry us forward.

The bottom line is that the system works, and I don’t see anything that makes me think that that will change.  Interesting characters and all.

Well Grounded

In case you haven’t noticed, I have been writing less lately.  This is because the day job has been more demanding and we’ve been trying to get some things finished around the house.  However, it’s now the weekend so I have a little time.  My goal is to get some things caught up so I can write more regularly again.

Today was a functional ham radio day.  I installed a new ground system with Adam’s help (thanks, Adam, and I mean big time!)  It used to be that grounding was a concept that was not limited to electricians and radio aficionados.  It was something that was routine high school physics and played into many handyman projects around the house.

 Scientists theorized that the earth is large enough and has sufficient mass that it would not be possible for any electrical charge to be large enough to change the earth’s overall charge.  People could pump all the electrons possible into the earth and it would make no difference.  As such, the concept of an earth ground provided a useful and practical way to connect electrical devices.  It takes a complete circuit for an electrical charge to flow.  In a flashlight, for example, when the switch is closed the electrons flow from the battery, through the switch and the light bulb and then back to the battery.  One end of the battery is + (positive) and the other – (negative).  When there is a difference in the level (potential) between the + and the – electrons flow.  (Think of walking through the house in winter; your shoes and the carpet create a charge on you so that when you touch a door knob the electrons flow and you get a “shock”.)

When the telegraph was invented, it was possible to use a single wire to connect the telegraph stations.  The other half of the circuit was achieved by using the earth ground.  The electric current flowed from the battery to the telegraph stations and then back to the battery through the earth ground.   

In radio, ground systems play two important roles.  The first is relatively straight forward; antennas are metal structures that are erected as high as possible.  This is not the optimal location during a thunderstorm so the ground is a means of protecting the antenna and the radio from lightning.  There is no protection from a direct lightning strike, but by connecting the antenna to a suitable ground, any static charge will hopefully be drained into the earth thereby reducing the possibility of attracting lightning. If the antenna is neutral in relation to the storm, the lightning should be attracted to some other location with a different charge than the cloud.  This lightning protection ground can be achieved by driving an 8 or 10 foot conductive rod into the earth.

The second role of the ground is going to require some oversimplification.  When a radio transmits a signal, if everything is adjusted properly, the signal exits the antenna.  Even with radio there is still the need for a circuit; the antenna is one half, the ground the other.  This is a radio frequency (RF) ground and is a bit more complicated.  While the ground rod is important, when dealing with RF a ground system is needed.  As of today my ground system consists of three ground rods spaced about 20 feet apart with heavy gauge copper wire buried just under the surface connecting them. 

Heavy gauge wire tends to bend when you don’t want it and not bend when you do.  This means that just after you get it buried, a segment pops up, so building a ground system takes longer than you expect.  Likewise, 10 foot copper clad grounding rods take effort to sink into the ground.  Bottom line is that Adam helped me get it built and it’s functioning well.  When I tested it I was able to make contacts with better results and less noise than in the past.

Oh, and in the process, I got to sneak a physics lesson in on my readers.

Some People Never Use It

There are some things that we have that we don’t use, or at least don’t use often.  For some, this is a good thing.  My fire extinguishers and smoke detectors are top of the line models that hopefully will languish until they need to be replaced.  No rational person complains about wasting money on such items.

Other items are rarely used.  We have a set of dishes that my wife’s grandmother gave us that have a Christmas motif.  Most of the year they sit in the cupboard over the refrigerator, but between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day they not only do get used, but they also provide a great excuse to remember Carmen and talk about the good times we had with her.  Other holiday items share similar use characteristics – brought out for the appropriate occasion, enjoyed and then stored until the next year.  Of course some years we can’t find the Halloween box because it got buried under the Mardi Gras and Easter boxes – but that’s a different story.

Some items are single use and then stored; we have the dress my daughter wore as a flower girl in a family wedding 7 years ago carefully hung in the closet.  College diplomas may end up on the office wall but high school (and even grade school) diplomas maybe kept. They usually end up in one of the boxes that makes the trip to every new address only to be taken to the attic with the box still tightly taped. 

Others items were once regularly used but then were stored, such old military uniforms from persons still living and their ancestors long deceased.  This also happens with tools that once belonged to grandpa or great-uncle Charlie.  Unfortunately no one knows how to use a draw shave (yes, that’s a real tool) anymore – just like Great Grandma’s button hook which she used for her shoes.

There are many reasons for having something that doesn’t get used regularly.  However, I am puzzled by one item in particular.  Turn signals.

Every automobile manufactured after 1960 has a little lever on the left side of the steering wheel that can be used to signal the driver’s intention to make a turn.  Some people are not only reluctant to use it but may not even know that it’s there.

My grandfather learned to drive using hand signals and didn’t use his turn signal until my father explained to him how it worked, but that was about 1961.  I suspect most people who are driving today should be aware of this marvelous little gadget.  Maybe they zoned out in Drivers’ Education after the gory traffic accident movie and never refocused.

I don’t think anyone knows or cares who invented it.  Maybe if the inventor were known and we referred to it as the “Hansen-Buckley Turnolite” or the Maybe just “the Wilkowski” it would get more use.  If Steve Jobs invented it I’m sure it would be painted white and only compatible with and available from only a few car manufacturers.  People would wait for the next auto show to see what this year’s enhanced turn signal could do.

On the other hand, if Bill Gates were responsible for it, you’d have to buy an upgrade every three years and upload bug fixes and service packs every Tuesday night.  It would mimic Steve Jobs signal, but wouldn’t be perceived as anywhere near as prestigious.

Instead, the turn signal is something that’s free (or at least included as a standard feature), reliable and easy to use.  It’s more convenient to use while driving than a cell phone, the radio/CD player or even the cup holder, yet many people just refuse to use it.

Makes you wonder.

I’ve Got the Music in Me

I can always tell when things have been so busy that I haven’t had time to play music.  It’s worse than a hunger in some ways.  I find myself punching buttons on the radio in the car trying to find something that satisfies me, but not succeeding.  It later dawns on me that I can’t just be a spectator when it comes to music – I have to produce some music in order to feel fulfilled.

It’s not that I can produce any music worth listening to; it’s not the quality that is important in this case.  It’s the commitment to develop a few skills, no matter how minor and then using them.  It’s the same type of thing that drives grown men and women to suit up and play baseball or soccer or participate in a pickup game of basketball.  There may be no significant talent, but there is a passion and a sense of enjoyment that comes from doing rather than merely observing.

I think it should be that way in life, too.  Most of will never make the pros, but it matters less as to how good we are, but whether we get involved and try to do something.  Is it really enough to have a favorite team and live to watch them on the television?

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what the pros can do – it’s always worthwhile to see what a master can achieve – but to forego a chance to be involved just doesn’t make any sense.  Life is too short.

Tonight I chose to write rather than play music.  If there’s no blog tomorrow, you know what I’m doing.

Diana

I write about my kids, although I do try to respect their privacy to some level.  Besides, in this crazy world one tends to try to protect one’s children from the crazies that are out there.  However, I don’t believe I’ve ever mentioned my oldest child, Diana.

Today is Diana’s 36th birthday. 

While many of her peers are busy with careers or family, Diana’s life is significantly different.  Unfortunately Diana suffered trauma at birth which resulted in significant brain damage due to lack of oxygen.  The label she gets put under is cerebral palsy, but that term is like saying “the common cold.”  It describes yet doesn’t describe the situation.  Diana cannot sit on her own, speak or tend to her own needs.  Fortunately she is in a quality group home her mother found for her that does an outstanding job in providing for her needs.

I had tried to write more, but the words wouldn’t cooperate.

So I’ll say, “Happy Birthday, Diana!  May the Lord bless you and keep you.  May His face shine upon you.  May he look upon you and be gracious unto you.  And I ask Almighty God to bless you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.”

All my love,

Dad

 

 

The Great Dismal Swamp Fire of 2011

The area in which I live was once the Great Dismal Swamp.  Like most historic swamps, part of it has been reclaimed while some remains swampland.  Some people vehemently oppose reclaiming swampland while others are just as firm in their belief that this is land that can and should be used.  Among those opposed to draining swamps include the Addams Family, while George Washington owned thousands of acres of the Great Dismal Swamp with the intent to drain and utilize the land.  I like wetlands, and the area immediately behind my back yard is allegedly protected wetland; it makes the yard soggy after a heavy rain, but it provides us with privacy and interesting four legged neighbors.  Nature and I share the back half of the yard depending upon which of us has the more pressing need.  I find that when there’s standing water, my needs usually can wait.

There’s a natural cycle to land, and although Nature may progress slowly, land changes nevertheless.  Ponds build up plant mass and runoff from the surrounding areas, eventually becoming swamps.  Swamps continue the process ultimately becoming meadows.  Meadows are often very fertile due to all the decayed and decaying plant matter that gave it solidity.  While grasses grow in the meadows, eventually trees begin to take root and convert the meadow into a forest.  As forests die out they can become deserts and if the desert is lower than the surrounding terrain it becomes a pond and the cycle begins again.

Fires are also part of the natural cycle.  It has been hot and dry, interrupted by periodic thunderstorms.  The wildfires in the Great Dismal Swamp were caused by lightning – the usual cause. 

Fires clear out the dead materials and undergrowth and in doing so tend to spawn new life.  Once the undergrowth has been burnt away, the exposed soil is attractive for other types of flora.  Certain trees have seed pods that burst in high heat; the trees have evolved to take advantage of the clearing of the forest floor to spread its descendants, thereby giving them a better chance of survival.

The smoke from the swamp fire smells like burning garbage, because, well, the swamp’s “garbage” is what is burning – dead plants and dry undergrowth.  However, it does not always hug the earth; the large clouds of smoke rise and both smoky cloud and smoky haze block a certain amount of the sun’s rays.  Since wildfires often occur during heat spells it almost seems as though this were an intended rather than coincidental outcome.

Man has had various attitudes toward nature.  Some want to conquer it.  Some believe that humans are virtually a disease infecting nature and nature would be better off without mankind.  American Indians had something akin to a partnership with nature.  I guess I see nature as the ultimate classroom and look to it to give me things to observe, think about, research and reflect.

Like, why do we have wildfires in the Great Dismal Swamp?

 

Our Seals

I promised to write more about our Seals who were lost in Afghanistan.  I have many fine words for them.  I have one word for many who talked about them.

OPSEC

OPSEC means Operational Security.  When anyone in uniform is in the theatre of operations, they are taught/encouraged/threatened to exercise OPSEC.  This means you don’t tell the bad guys nuthin’ no how, no way. 

You don’t tell them who you are.

You don’t tell them where you are.

You sure as hell don’t tell them where you’re going.

It’s best not to tell them where you’ve been because you may go there again.

And you never, never, never tell them what you’ve done much less what you’re planning to do.

Not everyone adheres to the demands of OPSEC.  When that happens, people die.

There was a lot of excitement after Osama bin Laden was killed.  People talked about who did it, how they did it, where they did it and what they used to do it. 

None of those describing those things were the people who actually did it.  I doubt that most of those who were describing these events ever came close to this type of action.

My politically incorrect advice: If you want to talk about what goes on –

  1. Enlist or accept a commission
  2. Qualify for an elite combat assignment
  3. Go into theatre and get shot at
  4. Take the good, the bad, the ugly and the deadly
  5. Knock the hell out of the bad guys
  6. Complete your tour
  7. Then talk/comment/preach

Of course, having actually been there and done that you wouldn’t want to talk about it because if you do you WILL endanger your shipmates, squadmates, and kindred spirits.  You WILL compromise missions.  You WILL compromise national security.

Talk is cheap; action is expensive and paid for in blood.

While those seeking attention are talking to the press, the real heroes are looking forward to coming home, to holding their wives and their children and to have a little normal before going on to the next assignment; maybe kids’ school events, or sports or a trip to the amusement park.

My praise is for those who do.

Thank you.

 

“Heroes & Villians” – Beach Boys 1967

 

Two major events in the news.  The obvious one is that Washington’s actions
(or should that be antics) ultimately resulted in Standard & Poor’s
lowering the USA’s credit rating.  I, like most Americans, was embarrassed by the “typical Washington Kabuki Theater.”  Has our government engendered
confidence in the people of this country, or any other for that matter?  Hardly.

But the financial world – the same ilk that gave us derivatives that no investor could understand. The brothers of those who took bailout money to pay themselves bonuses;  The sisters of those who managed to destroy
the American dream of owning a home; has now passed judgment on the country’s creditworthiness and found it wanting.

It’s kind of like preparing for the big homecoming game in high school, only to discover that the visiting team’s coach is controlling the scoreboard.  Having the fox guard the henhouse would be a far better deal.

But as far as I’m concerned, that story is the lesser of the two important stories.  While the bankers, financiers and politicians have focused on power and wealth, 38 American service members gave their lives.  Most of them Sailors.  Most of them Seals.

They did not dedicate and ultimately give their lives for fortune, or fame.  They gave them for their beliefs and commitments.  Something that the starring
actors in the first story might have difficulty understanding.

The families of the Seals are reporting how their Seals did what they loved.  How they died was not as important as how they lived.  To me, their rating of the
credibility of the USA is far more important than anyone credit manager.

Seal Team Six is a local unit.  They’re easy to spot.  They’re the guys who blend in.  The ones who don’t wear the “Navy Seal” shirts available at the Exchange.
They’re the ones who don’t look impressed with themselves as they sit a
few pews away in church or in the elementary school gymnasium for the 5th
grade awards ceremony.  There are mythical attributes ascribed to “the girl next door.”  The Seals embody “the guy next door.”

I’ll have more thoughts to share in the next few days, but for today I’d like to share the following few thoughts:

1.  When I see the antics in Washington, it renews my faith when I think of these young men.

2. When I see the money changers comfortably sitting in their Wall Street temples, it renews my faith when I think of these young men.

3. When I see people grabbing headlines by whatever means possible, it renews my faith when I think of these young men.

The 91st Psalm is often referred to as the Warriors’ Psalm.  I cannot offer anything so poetic. But I can say, “Thanks, guys. We’re going to miss you.”

I can say to their wives, sons, daughters and parents, “In a time with too few heroes, thank you for sharing yours.”

 

 

 

 

Moving Day

Moving within a house is not significantly easier than moving from one house to another.  The scope is different, but not the key elements.

Through the efforts of my two youngest, my office/ham radio shack/etc.
moved from the most visible location in the house (read “eyesore”) to one that is not in the immediate line of sight from the front door.
Things will start getting busy for me week after next, so I wanted to
get this done before then.

I fancy myself as a reasonably good communicator, but when
dealing with one’s own kids there are always communications challenges.  First, because I live here and my kids live here, I have the expectation that they understand exactly what I am trying to achieve.  This is not always the
case.  To further complicate matters, I assume that by watching me they’ve developed certain skills such as the names and functions of various tools.  This is
also somewhat less than correct.  This leads to problem number three in which I try to explain what I expect them to do, but after the first two challenges, my frustration level rises and I find myself in complete exasperation trying to create order from chaos by saying,  ”Not that thing! The thing under the thing that looks different!”

You’d think that such a statement would be sufficient, but it somehow does not
connote the meaning I had in mind.

In any case, we moved the cables for three antennae (some people prefer “antennas” but “antennae” is so much cooler), three cables for the weather station and a ground cable.  While at first I ran these through the window, ultimately it took an appropriate opening in the wall to work correctly.  The 90+ degrees Fahrenheit might have something to do with that.  Of course pulling a cable up on a string is much easier to a window than to a small round hole, but eventually we got it done.

After that I had to route the cables to their respective locations, solder connectors and test things out. My vocabulary did not expand noticeably during this portion of the evolution, either.

The children did not demand retribution for my tempestuous insistence that they know to which “thing” I was referring.  However, I’ve learned over the years that discretion is the better part of valor.

Therefore I took them to the Ice Cream Boutique after all the tasks done.  I figure the cost of dessert is a small price to pay for their help, tolerance and their ability to forego patricide, even when some might conside it to be justified.

 

A Place for My Books

One of the hazards of being a writer is that writers have a
tendency to read.  Being a Baby Boomer, I
prefer to read books, and if there’s a book I enjoy I like to own it.  I mean real paper pages with real ink surrounded
by a heavy duty hard back binding.  Oh, I
have my share of paperbacks, but if I really like a book, I look for the
hardback.  Of course this means in some
cases I have the paperback that I read to determine that I would like it plus
the paperback.

When I travel, I also like to pick up books about the places
I’ve been.  My theory, or perhaps my
justification is that the kids might need this material for school someday.  I’ve got booklets about the Pentagon,
Arlington, Monticello, Gettysburg, Cajun country, and – well, you get the idea.

Having books means that I need some place to store
them.  I worked in a library.  I know where books are supposed to go.  I went to the store and bought bookcases in
which to store my books.

Right now I’m moving some things from one room to
another.  One of the rooms has several
bookcases full of (ready for this) books.
As I prepared to move them I noticed that the shelves were warped and in
a few cases, cracked.

What kind of sick factory manufactures “bookcases” that aren’t
strong enough to hold books?

Now it’s true that I purchased these as “assemble it
yourself” furniture.  They came from the
discount store.  They might have even
been made outside the USA.  However, if
you’ve looked at furniture in the affordable section of the “real” furniture
stores, you will have noticed that there’s not much (if any) difference between
the assembled furniture and the discount store’s ready to be assembled
furniture, except price.

Contrary to the opinions held by my family, I do have an
affinity for cheap.

I think that some good American company might address the bookcase
gap and make an affordable sturdy book case.
I’m not talking about top grade mahogany, here.  I know that most of us can only afford the
composite board with a photographic depiction of wood grain type of book
cases.  However, there are ways to make
even such humble materials sturdier.  How
about a vertical piece in the middle of the shelves?  Yankee ingenuity would call for someone to offer
a “Heavy Duty Kit” for those who plan on filling their bookcases with books.  It could be mass marketed and sold for an “amazingly
low price.”

If one of my readers shows up on an infomercial with this
idea, I don’t want a percentage – just send me a couple of dozen of the heavy
duty kits.

Better do it quick.  I
need to buy more books before we shift to 100% e-publishing.

Good Things

There are things in life that are truly treasures, but sometimes we’re so busy that even though we enjoy them we don’t really notice them.  Here are a few:

  • Warm showers
  • A glass of cold water on a hot day
  • A daughter’s smile and hug
  • A son who is working hand in hand with me on my project
  • A weekend with my wife
  • A phone call from a friend
  • Sharing chores (so no one person gets stuck with them)
  • Watching my grandson play T-Ball

I’ve been reading the headlines.  “Breaking” news may be a misnomer – most of it seems just plain broke.  After reading the headlines I initially got frustrated, but then I regrouped and realized that the blessings are everywhere if we but notice them.

There are always great arguments about how the world came to be.  To me, Genesis says that from earliest times people knew that God was responsible for creation.  God is under no obligation to us to explain what He did, how He did it, and how long it took Him.  I accept that He created everything.  I also like the fact that after He created things, He saw that they were good.

I’ve decided to follow His example and focus on the good in things.

I Write, Therefore I Am

When I write I sometimes think that I would be more motivated if I had hundreds or thousands or even millions of readers.  That is one of the traps of blogging; each day I can look and see how many people have read my blog.  I admit the number is small, but is any number of readers ever enough?

An author in a traditional medium may know how many copies of the newspaper sold, or the magazine, but that does not tell them how many readers were interested in their particular piece of work.  They might be subscribers, or they might have purchased the periodical strictly because of some other article.  Even book authors are not sure how many people who purchased their book actually read and enjoyed it; in fact the majority of fans might be sharing a limited number of copies through public libraries.

So I write.

I write because I have the joys of my family that I spill over, so I need to put that feeling somewhere.  I write because I think I can put into words the feelings many of us share; pride, frustration, enthusiasm or excitement.  I write because I may have a small idea that someone else can build on and contribute something great to our society.  I write because I may make one person feel better. 

I understand that there currently is no cure for writing.  The big pharmaceutical companies know there is no profit to be gained by finding a drug to stop it.  Then there’s that pesky Bill of Rights thing (and First Amendment to the Constitution at that).

So my job is writing.  It’s someone else’s