February 2009

Bugs.

So Bill Gates was at a technology conference of some sort, which was populated with a lot of important technology related people, and when he went on stage he talked about malaria and mosquitos. He then opened a jar he had brought with him and let the mosquitos mingle amongst the others in attendance at the conference.

‘Malaria is spread by mosquitoes,’ Gates said while opening a jar on stage at a gathering known to attract technology kings, politicians, and Hollywood stars. ‘I brought some. Here I’ll let them roam around. There is no reason only poor people should be infected.'”

This is a brilliant thing. I like his “in your face” attitude when it comes to his philanthropic work. He is one of the richest men in the world and it seems that he is using the power that title garners and doing good things with it.

I like that.

I like it so much that I have to admit that there are times when I think of jumping back into the world of Windows in an effort of supporting his efforts. The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation does some amazing things. I mentioned a couple of months ago that I was considering supporting their efforts by considering buying a Dell (PRODUCT) Red laptop to replace my MacBook Pro. I think it’s more important to give back to the world instead of just making a statement with a pretty piece of computer hardware. Not that I don’t love my Macs, because I do, but there are times that I really don’t like the smugness often found in the vicinity of a Mac. It’s usually the users that’s acting smug. I can be one of them at times.

If you’re going to be smug, you should do it in the name of a greater good, like when you open the jar of mosquitos on stage in front of some really important people.

Here’s a link to Yahoo!’s take on the story.

Control.



004.365, originally uploaded by iMachias.

I’d like to write a thought-provoking, topical, relevant and awe-inspiring blog post, complete with just a touchy of whimsy to keep it interesting, but there are pagers beeping in my life this week.

Hag.

So we have cable television available in the break room at work. It’s rare that I’ll sit down and watch television during a break with my co-workers for a couple of reasons, one of them being that I don’t really watch that much of what is offered on television these days and secondly, I revel in being a loner. Nevertheless, I do walk in and out throughout the day refilling my water jug or when I discard a banana peel. The TV blares constantly.

Lately the television has been tuned to TLC and has been showing one of those makeover shows during the lunch hour. Said show is pure formula: screaming queen with outrageous hair, check; woman doing her best to look like Pert Kelton as Alice Kramden, check; friends telling the aforementioned screaming queen all that’s wrong with this woman, check. One-liners are peppered in the comments from the peanut gallery: “she’s built like a linebacker” or “she looks like an ugly frat boy.” Apparently the goal of the show is to shame the woman into thinking she needs to look at least 10 years younger and therefore forever shun her haggish, haggard ways.

Give me a break.

Listen, I know everyone is obsessed with looking youthful, which apparently defaults to attractive but I really think that people should be allowed to look their age. Old does not equate bad. People over the age of 40 do not automatically become ugly. Nowhere should anyone be encouraged to wear a paper bag over their face because they’re not as youthful looking as they used to be.

I look in the mirror (often, because I am vain) and I see a man that has earned every crinkle around my eyes, every gray hair in my moustache and every freckle on this 40 year old body. Others have encouraged me to colour the gray streak in my ‘stache so that I look a little younger – I earned that gray streak from worrying about friends and family over the years! So I have a little sugar in my ginger, big deal. Granted, I work out like I’ve never worked out before these days and I constantly watch my diet, but that’s not in any crazy attempt at trying to appear younger, it’s so I live longer and can terrorise those I love with my big mouth for that many more years.

I know there are people walking all over the place that are being nipped, tucked, pinched, squeezed, peeled, loofahed, buffed, spit polished and injected with all sort of things so that they can reclaim what they believe they once had. I say wear your age with pride and donate the money to a worthy cause. Take a few moments and make an investment on what’s inside- in the long run that is much more important. If you look like an old hag on the outside it’s probably because you’re all mean on the inside and sooner or later and despite any amount of money invested, something is going to come untucked, unzipped, unpinched or just plain fall off.

Back to the woman on the television – she was given a boatload of cosmetics, a lot of air in her hair and contact lenses, all things that are superficial and that she’ll never have time to assemble on a daily basis.

But it made for good television.

Addiction.

So in between Superbowl commercials I’ve been watching the game a little bit (usually when Earl yells at the television) but I’ve also been spending the evening playing with Facebook. I swore I would never get addicted to Facebook but I’m finding myself looking up people I haven’t talked to in a couple of decades.

For example, I just sent a message to my first grade teacher. Sure, I haven’t seen her in 35 years or so but there she was on Facebook, over a thousand miles from my hometown but with the same maiden and married name. She was easy to find.

My first grade teacher was the prettiest of my elementary school teachers and had picture perfect handwriting. I remember her being very kind and very patient. She also let us do fun things, such as crank up “Rubberneckin'” by Elvis Presley on the record player usually reserved for “Free To Be You and Me”. I liked her a lot. I told her so in my message today. She probably thinks I’m a freak. I even liked her when she put my name on the “No Play” list on the blackboard for talking too much in class. I didn’t mention that in the message today but I remember the event like it was yesterday.

The other teacher I decided to look up was my second grade teacher, but she isn’t on Facebook. Though my first grade teacher was the prettiest, my second grade teacher was my favorite, probably for my entire school career, for she was the one teacher that “got me”. She didn’t force me to play football with the other boys (I was content to watch), she let me have a disorganised desk and she allowed me to indulge myself in my curious ways about technology; I was the only one in my class that was allowed to run both the Bell and Howell AND the Singer movie projectors and she let me sit in the principal’s office when the repairman from Johnson Controls came to fix the broken master clock which was preventing the classroom clocks and bells from working. Mrs. Hayden was neat.

Yes, I have spent the evening searching and reading throughout Facebook. Of course, there’s this whole big football game going on too, but I’m content to just watch it without screaming.

Superbowl Supper.



Superbowl Supper., originally uploaded by iMachias.

Because my husbear is a galloping gourmet, I thought I’d share our Superbowl Supper. That’s “pulled turkey” with asparagus, roasted yams and crackers with cranberry bruchetta.

Grandma Wegman helped out with the yams and the bruchetta.

Creative Leftovers.

Right on schedule, the “mid-winter blahs” made an appearance in my psyche today. I try really hard to fight the annual onset of the blues but sometimes I feel like it’s getting the best of me. To remedy the situation, I gathered up all the returnable pop and beer bottles and took them to the market and then browsed the “Nature’s Way” department, looking for a natural alternative to the crap offered elsewhere on the shelves. The sun peeked out on the ride home, so I took the long way and felt considerably better when I got home.

It’s the classic symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I need to buy one of those light boxes to get an apparently urgent dose of sun-like light.

Earl and I are headed to the House of the Mouse two weeks from today and I’m sure that’ll improve the situation greatly.

When I got home from the market, Earl presented me a tasty salad for lunch, using last night’s leftovers of baked chicken and pasta. He adds roasted red peppers to a good share of his dishes and I must say I always enjoy the added flavour.



Creative Leftovers., originally uploaded by iMachias.