If you can, take a moment to help kids and families at the border. Click on the screenshot of their website for more information.
J.P.
Cat.
This is one of my two niece cats. My mother calls her “Sissy”, according to my sister and my nephew, her official name is “Skippy June Jones”. She’s a bit of a hellraiser. I met her for the first time last month and quite honestly, some days we just need a cute cat photo, right?
I mean, I could write about the state of the country but I think I’m better off with a cat photo tonight. So please, enjoy this photo of Sissy with me.
Connecting.
So I had a thought regarding today’s technology and what “real” communication is. I was thinking, when the telephone and telegraph were coming to fruition back in the 1800-whatever, did a segment of society have some sort of hissy fit about it? Were there people saying, “If Mrs. Alabaster was really my friend, she’d taken the time to come out here and drop a card instead of calling me on this new doo-dad.”
Perhaps this is the way I should be looking at our new communication tools like Facebook and Twitter today.
Now, I know that Facebook and Twitter and every other communication network we have today monitors what’s said, who we’re saying it to, when we’re saying it, and where it’s being said. Technology has advanced in, my opinion, an unfortunate direction in this area, however, how different is this than the operators listening in on every long-distance phone call back in the day? Of course, the operators weren’t making money but I’m sure they were sharing your data in the form of gossip, especially if you lived in a small town.
Let’s face it, the majority of people you want to communicate with are probably on Facebook, Twitter, and/or one of the other popular social media platforms. Instead of burning down the house, maybe we should fight to make these platforms as safe and productive as possible.
By striving to make these platforms a more secure, friendly, and truthful experience for all, perhaps we can all really make the world a better connected place.
Length.
I purchased two items at CVS today. You’ll see the receipt in the photo above.
Many, many years ago I wrote point of sale programs. At the time, when popping out a receipt, one of the goals was to conserve paper, as there was a time expense involved with changing receipt tape and there was also the expense of the actual paper. Programming guidance manuals advised, “print the header of the next customer’s receipt during the current transaction. This will eject receipt paper without using up blank space.”
Today’s modern point of sale programs spit out feet of paper for marketing purposes. I’ve turned off the “print my receipt” options in the app. I’ve modified my preferences on the marketing website, but here we are, still receiving over a yard of paper for the purchase of two items.
Is our technology really evolving in the proper direction?
Next time I go to our local CVS I’m going to shop anonymously to see how long the receipt is.
MegaLand.
Tonight’s family game night included two rounds of MegaLand. It was our first time playing this game and we liked it very much. We look forward to playing it again soon.
Late.
It’s just after 1:00 a.m. in Chicago and I’m sitting here playing around on the computer. More specifically I’m playing with an old, beat-up Lenovo ThinkPad T410 running Debian Linux. I don’t know the age of this computer but it still runs like a charm.
You’d think after being a geek all day at work I wouldn’t have any interest in being a geek until all hours of the night, but here we are. This is when I exercise my skillz (snazzy ‘z’ there) and explore new things on old computers. Honestly, I love my MacBook Pro from 2015 but frankly it’s boring. I know what it’s going to do, I know how it’s going to do it, and it’s been doing it the same way for years. Messing around in Linux is always an adventure, and when I can keep the computer running as expected for more than one hour after tinkering, I consider the evening a success.
I’m just realizing that it’s Friday night and I’m acting like being up at 1:00 a.m. means it’s wicked late. I used to DJ until 3:00 a.m. a little over a decade ago, but then again a little over a decade ago I was still in my 30s.
I might not have as much pep as I used to but I’m still filled to the brim with geek.
Dying For Social Media Fame.
Mike Elgan has a story on FastCompany about folks who are doing death-defying feats, and sometimes failing at it, to go viral on Social Media. Link: People Are Falling Off Buildings For The Perfect Instagram Shot.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: in many respects technology has outpaced society’s ability to keep up with the pace of changes. We have technology we weren’t prepared for.
Mantelligence.
I Googled the various ways one can order a martini and I was led to a website called “Mantelligence”. The title of the article in question was, “How to order a martini like a man”.
I found the article very helpful. Unfortunately, I don’t know if I’m suppose to appreciate the information that was shared or horrified because of the gender bias in the name of the website and subsequent article.
The Age of Outrage is so very confusing.
Honestly, I’m happy I found the article and I look forward to reading more of this website at my next opportunity.
I guess I left my clutching pearls at home.
Seriously.
When did I become so serious? I read my blog entries from 10 years ago and back then I wrote like the gay, male Erma Bombeck. Hell, if I thought it would get a laugh I’d throw on a wig and a dress and start in with a Dayton, Ohio accent. I’d sound like Emma Thompson on “Ellen”.
But Earl and I are sitting here watching “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” (we’re still on season one, so no spoilers) and the fact of the matter is, I’ve become dreadfully serious. And in becoming dreadfully serious I’ve become withdrawn. Granted, I was rated an INFJ not too long ago, I do like my time alone to recharge, but I’ve always been able to fake something beginning with an “E”, at least for a little while. I go out, chat up a storm like I’m some sort of comedian, and then I get home and spend some time alone looking at porn on the computer in the middle of the night, because after all, that’s why the smart ones made the Internet, for porn.
Looking through my old blog entries I realize that my hilarity (that’s quite an air of grandiosity I have there) stated to fade a bit when George W. Bush was President. After 9/11, I felt like I should be more invested in the state of the country, hell the whole world, so I started paying attention to what was going on in the news and I got all serious about it. Then someone told me I wasn’t militant enough as a gay man. I should stop eating Chick-Fil-A and I should become indignant when someone does something I probably haven’t even noticed, but everyone else in “the community” clutches their pearls and makes a gasping noise. I know, we’re suppose to do things for each other as members of the LGBTQQI (did I get it all?) community, but the fact of the matter is, I’m a really bad gay man. Getting back to the porn thing, I don’t like things in my pooper, I don’t really like playing with other poopers, and I don’t really feel any sort of thrill watching two guys play with poopers. I think Barbra Streisand seems talented but her songs don’t really take my breath away, the only thing I feel is a sinus headache when Mariah Carey makes that whistling sound, and I sure as shit can’t stand it when Christina Aguilera is trilling and yodeling the word “yeah” all over a simple melody that my 8th grade chorus could sing back in 1982.
I like the cows and I like waffle fries and I like Polynesian sauce and I’m seriously not going to feel guilty if I indulge in these things once in a while.
Things really changed when my Dad died. This is the part of the blog entry where it gets heavy. After that happened I felt like it was time for me to grow up and be more responsible, invest in the world in around me, and do what I can to take care of my family. And that’s what I’ve been doing since 2011, doing my best to be serious about taking care of my family. I take care of my husband, and I take care of our “Cub”, and now I do my best to take care of our Cub’s fiancé. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this, but I don’t know that I have to lose my sense of humor to do this.
The other thing that’s really taken the wind out of my funny bone is the election of this stupid, ignorant, piece of trash of a human being currently in the Oval Office. Seeing who supports such a horrible person, regardless of what he does, has quite frankly scared me. I’ve always known that there are stupid people in the world, it’s just that I didn’t know there were so many of them and that so many of them were so close to my inner circle. Trumpians like to say that we’re angry that “we lost”. First of all, I’m not as leftist on some things as one would think. Second of all, I don’t believe the country should be made up of teams. Thirdly, the last I knew we were calling ourselves “The United States of America” but there’s hardly anything ‘united’ about us anymore. And it’s these realizations that make me feel very serious. But how am I changing the world by losing my sense of humor?
The truth is, I’m not.
This afternoon when Flaming Cheeto appeared at a Press Briefing, surrounded by bald men, proclaiming the grave situation about the southern border, I couldn’t help but laugh.
I made several snarky comments on Twitter about how I wasn’t going to shave my head anymore because I didn’t want to be perceived as one of “those guys”. I also commented how the one on Trump’s right looked quite sad because he was upset that the others had shaved his head right before he went out into the Press Room. I mocked Lord Orange Whippy Whip over his unbelievably shitty tan and honestly, I screeched at CNN for giving this guy even two minutes of air time so he could broadcast another publicity stunt obviously designed to steal thunder from Nancy Pelosi returning to House Majority Speaker and the swearing in of an incredibly diverse House of Representatives.
You know what’s funny? That people actually take this Day-Glo Flea Dipped Asshole seriously. You know what’s not funny, and quite frankly, incredibly horrifying?
That people still take this Day-Glo Flea Dipped Asshole seriously.
I’m sad that I can’t ask my Dad what he thinks about today’s Republican Party. My dad and I talked about politics once, and that’s when he told me I should register as a Republican so I could get somewhere in business in Upstate New York. (I was planning to register as an Independent). He ran his hand across the “R” levers in the voting booth without hesitation. But in my heart of hearts I can’t believe that my father support would support what the GOP has become today. Maybe it’s wishful thinking of a 50-year old kid at heart reminiscing about his dead dad.
Wow, so somber again.
I guess I find it hard to laugh when I’m worried about the state of the country. There’s a funny grandma in Alamance County in North Carolina who doesn’t cuss in public like I do. Her name is Jeanne Robertson and she tells everyone at every one of her speeches, “find the humor in every situation”.
I need to do more of that again. Long live the name Day-Glo, Flea Dipped Asshole.
Aviators.
It’s the perfect day to fly here in Chicago but I’m doing the desk job thing today. So instead I’ll put on the new aviators I got for Christmas and go for a walk around the block.
