Probably pretty ugly if using Internet
Explorer 9 or earlier.
11 5 18
Reflections on Daylight Saving Time
Random thoughts about the event of the weekend.
What, no centennial celebration? In the United States, Daylight Savings was implemented in 1918. I don't recall any celebrations of the fact. No parades, no day off, no storewide savings. Or maybe there were events, but they were only an hour long. Either the centennial went by quietly, or I just slept through it.
Extend the Benefits. Scientists claim that there are four benefits to returning to not-daylight-savings-time. General consensus is that fall (the
extra hour) is a good thing, while
losing an hour in the spring is a bad thing. I'm all in favor of health, so here's my proposal: Let's do away with the springtime part of Daylight Savings. Life goes on as normal in the spring, but in early November, we
add an hour of sleep. So our schedules are messed up, and in about ten years we'll be going to school and work at the witching hour. Every good plan has a flaw, but we're smart people. We'll figure it out.
About the cats. Granted, cats have no respect for boundaries of space and time, but I'm always surprised how quickly they adjust to the changes, especially the Mr., our designated alarm cat (actually, as is true of all cats, he assumed the position. If you tried to designate him, he wouldn't do it). He settles into the the new times quickly (within 24 hours), getting one of us up at 5:00 to feed him, and then he returns at 6:15 to make sure we're up to face the day.
Clock-changing. There were no problems this time. I know where all the non-self-setting clocks are, and had them all done by 10:00. Normally, there's always one that I miss, and then panic when I see that I'm way late for something.
How do the TV people do it? I've always wondered. This year, I was awake for the switch. The program guide listed shows at 1:00 and 1:30 AM, and then it showed programs at 1:00 and 1:30. Not earth-shattering, but I'm glad I got that cleared up.
10 29 18
'een o' the 'een o' the 'een
Halloween is Wednesday, and once again, my wife and I are facing the musical question:
Do we stay or do we go? We've done both–handed out candy to thundering herds of trick or treaters from across the city (it seems), as well as turned off the lights and spent the evening in the back of the house; and gone to a nice pub to celebrate the anniversary of our meeting.
We're not grinches. We enjoy seeing the little tykes dressed up and walking with their parents. We have nice candy. It's the later-in-the-evening older crowd who show up without costumes, and wordlessly thrust out a plastic grocery store bag. Plus the neighborhood behind us did up Halloween big-time, to the point where they had to have police to direct traffic. We got the overflow.
At the moment, the plan is to stay and distribute. The neighborhood behind us has scaled back, and there seem to be fewer participants. Plus it just seems right. Plus we bought the candy. Of course, everything depends upon the weather, the course of the day, and unknowns. It should be fun. If not, next year, we're back to celebrating the anniversary.
Some encomiums are just flat stupid. Here are two that have been bugging me this week.
Happily ever after. Ain't no such thing. That's how fairy tales end, and fairy tales are made up stories. We don't expect to see dragons and unicorns trotting down the street in real life, but we expect that there is such a thing as happily every after. There's not. Deal with it.
Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it. With all due respect to Winston Churchill, this is bogus. We always forget the
from. In school, we learn history, we do not learn from history. The only real way we learn is through experience, either immediate or perhaps from a parent or other wise person we know. As Vizzini, who had studied history, found out, knowing
Never get involved in a land war in Asia provides no information in a battle of the wits.
Besdies, as Big Think points out, repeating history happens to the aware and the unaware alike. If you have and utilize personal experience and knowledge, you can dodge some pretty nasty situations. But knowing what Churchill did? Not so much.
10 22 18
You might have to work to get it. But there's a joke here, honest.
NBC News reports on an increase in deflouridation efforts in the US, and includes this quotation:
The persistence of fluoride conspiracy theories – which emerged in the 1950s with claims that fluoridation was a communist plot to dumb down Americans – is alarming public health officials.
It's sad when your own movement and its proponents are Exhibit A in your proofs.
Forgotten Treasures of the Renaissance
PBS loves it some art. But they go with well-known pieces, or
modern classical music, in which case it's
this music is so obscure that even the composer's mother didn't know he wrote it. One recent show mentioned the iconic Leaning Tower of Pisa. Well, what about less well-known works of art from the good old days (AKA the Renaissance), many with well-known creators? Like:
- The Upright Tower of Pisa. The leaders of Pisa realized immediately that they were going to be mocked for the tippy tower, so they built a second tower, the Upright Tower of Pisa. It was eighty feet taller, had a faster elevator, and it was straight! It never achieved the popularity of the first tower with tourists, though, even after they added a Starbucks and eliminated the admission fee for the observation deck.
- The Terri Lisa. Leonardo painted Mona's sister Terri soon after he painted Mona. Same pose, same backdrop, but the kindest comment that has come down to us is
she looks so constipated!
- Clown Holding Balloons. After completing David, Michelangelo was commissioned to do another statue, Clown Holding Balloons, which featured his first and only attempt to paint marble. General consensus: Naked clowns are even creepier than clothed clowns.
- styrofoam baptistry doors. When people complained that the great bronze baptistry doors were too heavy and too hard to open, Ghiberti replicated the doors in styrofoam. In spite of the fact that these doors had a much higher R-factor, environmentalists complained that they were made of non-sustainable materials, and the doors were removed.
A least, if you live in the eastern United States. NBC News (again) tells us there are more tornadoes further east in the US than before. And, as an extra added attraction, scientists don't know why.
Personally, the first thing I'd check would be increased mobile home sales and higher occupancy rates in trailer parks in the affected area.
In the name of customer satisfaction, people are sending out surveys asking how satisfied I am with the service or product. This is all part of a trend to try to harness the power of the internet to make people think they're getting good service.
I can understand the importance of improving customer service, but at a certain point, it's going to impact customer relations, and not in the good way. Some recent examples from my own life.
- auto service. I recently had the oil changed and the tires rotated by the dealer. I waited about an hour, which was fine. Since then, I have received four e-mails asking me to complete an on-line survey. Two came after I actually completed the survey. There was also a phone call from the dealership asking if I had anything to add to the survey answers. Annoyance factor: High.
- doctor. I went to a specialist. Before I got home, they had mailed three different surveys, including one from the software provider. Annoyance Factor: Low (time needed to delete surveys).
- Amazon. I bought some books and a keyboard. I started to charge the keyboard and began reading one of the books. Within one day I was encouraged to provide a review of the keyboard (
It charges very quietly was about all I could say at that point), and a week later I was asked to provide a review for one of the books (one that I hadn't started reading). Annoyance Factor: Minor irritations. I will say that I didn't respond, and haven't gotten any requests for reviews since then. So that's good.
- Doctors. OK, they're not really satisfaction surveys, but my doctors have taken to sending texts, e-mails and making robocalls asking me if I'm planning on showing up for a scheduled appointment. I may have been late once for an appointment back in 2006, so why I'm getting all this attention for a supposed failing memory, I don't know. All of them want me to respond, even the ones that roll into voicemail, and even though I have responded by another means. Annoyance factor: High. It's not doing anything for me except raising my blood pressure. Maybe that's the point.
- auto-fill prescriptions. When my old pharmacist went away, my prescriptions got moved to a chain pharmacy, which would call and text when the refills were ready. If you didn't pick them up within a day or two, they'd keep calling/texting. Someplace along the way, the prescriptions were
de-synched, and so I was getting calls for each prescription. I'd drive to the drug store, only to find one prescription ready. By the time I got back home, there would be another voice mail/text telling me a different prescription was ready. Annoyance factor: Huge, until I switched to a drug store without autofill. Now, life is good.
- random. I used to do the newsletter for a local painting club. I enjoyed it, even though I don't paint. When the ratio of enjoyment to burden shifted to burden, I stopped. After a year break, the club revived the newsletter with new editors, supposedly with web-based delivery. The first number came out a week or so ago. Yesterday, in my mailbox, there was a link to an online survey. Annoyance factor: High. This does nothing for me, and IMHO, is not the best way to get information from maybe two dozen members who were already online reading what your were asking about.
I'd say I won't respond, but then a lot of surveyors will just ramp up the
you haven't responded to our survey e-mails/voicemails/texts. So I'll drop it here, and walk away.
Unless, of course, you would like to participate in a survey about the quality of the writing and usefulness of the information in this blog. It will only take a few minutes.
10 13 18
It's About Time
A very busy front end::: warning: This post contains some very deep concepts, almost Zen-like in nature. It may not be suitable for people still waking up or under the influence of heavy metal music. ::disclaimer. I have been known to procrastinate.
I have a computer mah-jong game that rewards a win with three fortunes or sayings. One is usually humorous, the others
profound. I bumped into this one yesterday:
Today is the start of tomorrow. Besides for calling into question the very nature of time, it really shakes up one of the basic tenets of procrastination–that there really is no tomorrow, only now.
Yes, the sun comes up, the sun goes down, the seasons change, but we only experience them as they happen. All other time constructs are human constructs, and the value we place on them is totally artificial. As is their reeality.
What that little phrase is saying is that tomorrow has already begun, and putting things off until tomorrow means doing them now. This is a real problem for those of us who like to push unpleasant or
not ready to do tasks into the tomorrow space. Like light, time is a particle and a wave, but there is only one accessible particle–the now particle&38211; in a river of nows. No thens, no nexts–only nows.
I would like a satisfying conclusion, but I just don't have one at the moment. That happens when your world view is shattered. I'd say I'll deal with it tomorrow, but that's not an option any more. *Sigh.*
They Said It
If you ever find you're the most talented person in the room, you need to find another room.
10 7 18
It's rant time again! And it's a long rant, so buckle up for safety.
Charles Dudley Warner (or maybe Mark Twain) said,
While everybody talked about the weather, nobody seemed to do anything about it. Even when a huge superfluity of professional weathercasters spew effluvium about the weather, nothing is done about it, unless you count handwringing and fearmongering.
Yes, my friends, we have just too much weather. Not outdoors–there, we have the baby bear amount of weather, or just the right amount. No, it's on all our screens and newsfeeds with weathercasters and
newspeople stumbling all over each other to be the first to report that yes, the eye of the hurricane has moved a mile to the west in the last six hours.
It started with the local news, where the local broadcast provided the first weather, the main weather, and then a little follow-up, until the
newstime could be better described as
weather with a little news and sports thrown in. Then they started three day forecasts, seven day forecasts, and ten-day forecasts, admitting that the further out they forecast, the less accurate (more useless) the information is. (You can see this in hurricane reporting.) Then, since they had entered the realm of fuzzy weather, they went in whole hog with fuzzy temperatures. They call them
wind chill and
heat index, but it's just a way to make it seem hotter or colder out than it really is. If you're not confused, you're not paying enough attention.
And they all have all these wonderful technical-marvel toys, or at least toys with techy-sounding names. One station here has
Super Doppelganger Hoochy-Koochy 3D Side-Scan Radar and Soft-Serv Ice Cream that shows it's raining when it's not. Although ultimately a good thing, hurricane tracking that starts with the first rain shower in the Azores is bogus, for the same reason that ten-day forecasts are useless. They just don't work–there's just too much time for things to change. And the models! In the early stages, they look like the old Family Circus cartoons that plot Jeffy's path from the phone to his dad to tell him he has a telephone call. Speaking of calls, give us a call when the models start to come together. If you need a recent example, there's a tropical storm south of the Yucatan Peninsula. It will be providing us with rain and/or wind this coming weekend, we're told. Or not. Imagine that. We might have rain. We might have wind. I don't care what its source is. I just need to know if I can take an umbrella or if I need to go for the raincoat.
Hurricanes Harvey and Matthew showed how accurate those models were, as those two storms did not behave at all like the models said they should. And the models were wrong even until the storms were storms no more.
The data freaks have taken over the weather, too. I guess they ran out of things to analyze in sports and business. So we now have the hottest, coldest, wettest Tuesday this week, or
you have to go back to the beginning of time to find temperatures this hot, cold, wet, normal, whatever. One weather source has started reporting temperatures in tenths of a degree (i.e., 71.1) and another is reporting
chance of precipitation to a single digit (23%) instead of the more traditional and useful measure in 10 percent increments.
However, for all this data, I dare you to find answers to simple questions like
how much rain did we get in the past two days? without resorting to complicated Google searches. Once it happens, it is no longer of interest to the weathercasting class. After all, they can't scare us with yesterday, which I really think is the point of the whole exercise.
More data requires more people, too. The Weather Channel sent two dozen people to the Carolina coast, and CNN and NBC both had sizable contingents there. I'm sure other networks sent people as well. There was a greater hazard to residents of tripping over a weathercaster than there was from the storm. And why are weatherpeople exempt from mandatory evacuations? You report on a number of people who can't afford to evacuate. Why don't you take the money you spend on deploying and use it to help people who should get out of the storm's way do so?
A special note to all those idiots standing out in the storm. Your credibility suffers when reporting from the middle of the storm. Why should we believe you when you say
Do not do this? We're not even sure you're an intelligent lifeform at that point, so telling me to not do what you're doing is not really convincing. As a group, the
don't know enough to come in out of the rain crowd should win a Darwin Award.
Overall, weather reporting has become useless. I need to know how to dress and how to prepare. I need some basic information for the next few days on the outside chance I'm planning on doing something outdoors. And telling me today will have a high of 41.232447 degrees but will feel like 40 degree wind chill with a 67 percent chance of precipitation is not going to do that.
10 1 18
Each morning, I sit on the front (enclosed) porch with my wife before we head off to work or some other part of the day. It's a pleasant, relaxing time. We chat about the day, and watch the world go by.
This school year, we've been watching a dad accompany his son to preschool (at least that's the presumption). It's a charing scene. The tiny young scholar proudly wears a huge, brightly patterned backpack that hangs down almost past the bottom of his butt, with his thumbs hooked into the shoulder straps. He looks enthusiastic, eager to get to school. I imagine that he has a lot to say, talking about school, neat stuff, asking questions, and just whatever it is little boys talk about when they spend quality time with dad as they grow up.
But then I notice that the dad is looking at his phone. Every day, head down, thumb moving up and down on the screen.
What a wasted opportunity.
Since I'm in the mood....
A flock of Canadian geese just flew over, heading south and honking loudly. Instructions? Warning? Joy of life? I don't know. They were low over the house, but disorganized, or at least not in the classic
V formation. So they may have been in pre-flight to continue their journey to Florida and Texas.
I took it as a sign of fall. Each year when I was growing up, the geese would fly overhead. But those geese were flying high, in the
V formation, and the honking was distant, almost inaudible. Often they would be in the air at first light, sometimes hidden by low clouds, so it was a rare treat to see them flying over on a great journey or adventure. It spoke to something in me, at the same time sad and exhilarating.
But these geese? I don't know. There are large flocks of Canadian geese that have taken up permanent residence here, so there's honking and traffic blockages all year long. I don't know if these geese are the real deal or just moving to annoy someone in the next block.
It's kind of sad. Another piece of magic and mystery taken away. It's like being able to walk in the grocery store and finding sweet corn all year, instead of having only a few weeks in August to rush to a roadside farm stand to be able to enjoy it at its best.
Of course, fall is a time of sadness. Maybe that's why I like it so much.
They Said It.
So many things go wrong, we should be suspicious when someone gets it right.
9 24 18
Why Retail is Dying
OK, I don't have all the answers, and I'm sure the reasons that retail stores are dying is unique to each one. A while back, I mentioned a number of factors that contribute to the decline, none of which began with
Well, I'm back with one more. I need new sneakers. My wife favors on-line shopping. So I looked around there. Searching for men's athletic shoes returned a million hits, with a zillion types and models of shoes.
Do you know he difference between Model 409 and Model 410?
Neither do I. And the websites I visited weren't going to tell me.
I was going to be near a mall, so I decided to try there. (Irony Alert: I was getting athletic shoes to get more exercise. While walking around the mall, I got all the exercise I was planning for the month.) The sporting goods store had hundreds of right shoes on the wall, but nobody to help me find the left shoe. I had no more luck at the athletic shoe store, a couple of department stores were not carrying athletic shoes (or I couldn't find them),
I finally got to Penney's. They had lots of shoes, but nobody to help with them. Which I sort of thought was the whole purpose of buying shoes in person. Try them on, find out the difference between 409s and 410s. You know–service.
I came home empty-handed.
I still needed shoes, so it was back on line. Penney's seemed to have what I wanted, so I checked their web site. They had a sale, so I got two pairs of shoes, one white, one black. A few days later, they arrived--one pair of what I ordered, and one pair of what I call Italian granny shoes, although now that I think about it, my grandmother used to wear shoes like that, too. On the packing slip, there were very sketchy directions for returns. There were four categories, including
You sent me the wrong thing. But there were no other instructions except to take the package to the post office. There was also a 1-800 number, so I called that.
A quick aside: Most of my wife's clothing purchases are made on-line. Everything arrives promptly in well-designed, attractive packages that include a return label if you're not satisfied with the purchase, even if you changed your mind. It goes back at their expense.
Not so, with Penney's the person on the phone told me. I had to pay for returning the shoes. After I whined a little about me paying for their mistake, she coughed up a
return at Penney's expense label. Still had to find packing materials, but at least the shoes are out of the house.
And that's why traditional retail is dying. They don't know what they're doing. I can't say I was keeping Penney's afloat, but the last two experiences have been bad enough to keep me from any more purchases,.
Alas, no more Towncraft ties.
9 16 18
Don't Glue on Your Face.
I don't hang much with kids. Maybe I should more. It seems when I do, I learn something, usually profound. Like the time just before my wife and I went to Ireland and our nephew Shawn, then 7, sent a nice hand drawn card that said,
Watch out for leprechauns. They steal your stuff. Sure enough, my passport went missing halfway through the trip.
I've been watching out for leprechauns ever since.
I just had another infusion of this wisdom of children. Owen Kleon, age 5, occasionally posts on his dad's web site. Last week, in his post
A day of zines, one of the entries was titled
Don't Glue on Your Face. The accompanying picture shows exactly what he means. Applying glue to face art makes a mess. And yes, glue can make a mess of real world faces, too. It can stick your nostrils together and remove eyebrows. It would take weeks to recover! Practical advice for art and makeup. I'll follow that advice.
But there is also a deeper ambiguity in the statement. I thought of the persona that we all glue on. You know the ones–the bored, don't-bother-me face for work, the faux happyface for the cousin we don't like but have to put up with, a look of studious concentration in a philosophy class or a happy hour conversation where you lost the thread a long time ago because you got a little ahead on the dollar jello shots.
Anyway, don't glue on your face. Let your true self and feelings show! Be authentic, be real. T.S. Eliot probably said it best–
there will be time/ To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet. Best except now for Owen, who said it more colorfully and graphically. So don't glue on your face. It's a lot of unnecessary work.
Even I'm surprised that I'm quoting Eliot. I'm still ticked at him for resuscitating Moby Dick. If Melville and the try works were still buried in obscurity (that is, not on the syllabus), I would have enjoyed college a lot more.
9 2 18
Things We Do
Last week, I mentioned practicing some automatic learned behavior when someone asked for a light.
A couple of days ago, I was watching The Hallmark Channel (AKA the guilty pleasure network) and spotted another example. An older couple was bicycling, using two old-school girl's bicycles, (the type without a top bar for you young'un hipster millennial types, who, now that I think about it, probably know exactly what I'm talking about, since they've probably gone full circle and now are back in fashion).
When it was time to continue the journey, the woman stepped through the bicycle, putting her leg in front of the part of the frame that held the seat. The man, meanwhile, swung his left leg over the seat, like he would have done when he was younger and riding a
real bicycle, i.e., a boy's bicycle. Boys didn't ride girl's bicycles. You could catch cooties that way.
Even so, they still got one thing wrong. Usually guys would get on from the left side, because that's the side the kickstand is on. Raise kickstand. Swing leg. Pedal off.
They Said It
Creativity is not and never has been sensible.