Ponderings and Musings

When did we decide as a society to start putting television *everywhere*. I mean, I grew up with a television in the family room and the living room. The family room television was always on. Grandma and Grandpa City had a small black and white in the kitchen to supplement the color set in the living room. The black and white television was used for the news during the supper hour. Farmers Sam and Irma had a television in their kitchen mounted in a special cabinet above the refrigerator. Grandma and Grandpa Country had a Zenith in the living room and a smaller Zenith in the bedroom. Both had antennas with a rotor on it. Face it northwest to pull in Canada.

But when did we decide that we needed a television in every convenience store, on every fuel pump, in cash register displays, and in every inch of an airport terminal?

My husband and I stopped at a convenience store for varying needs during a ride over the weekend. I was instantly thrown into a foul mood because the television was blaring weird conspiracy theories about the recent Domestic Terrorist attacks on the Capitol Building. I looked around and no one was watching but wow, was that television loud. I then filled the tank in our Jeep Cherokee as the gas pump screamed entertainment news from a service called Cheddar. The fact that we now have 7-inch full color display screens on a gas pump to scream television at someone with access to highly flammable liquid just seems weird to me.

I think this moved happened right after 9/11. Before then, one of our favorite haunts was a decent restaurant with good food. After 9/11 it still was a decent restaurant with good food, but televisions were installed all over the place and they were tuned to CNN. Ever since then I’ve noticed diners now have TVs installed in the corners of the dining rooms, supermarkets have televisions talking at your while you’re at the checkouts, and the aforementioned gas pumps no longer let you put a tiger in your tank in peace.

It’s annoying.

A while back I included in a Yelp review of a Chicagoland diner the fact that their televisions were tuned to Fox News and I found it annoying. When Sean Hannity is interrupting my dinerlicious French Onion Soup, we have a problem. I wouldn’t even put up with Rachel Maddow interrupting a culinary experience. It’s completely unnecessary.

Televisions all over the place may have made sense in the days after 9/11 but before the proliferation of smartphones. They were probably put up there to keep people informed in the event of something happening after but in the spirit of 9/11. But with everyone having a smartphone in their pocket, we are instantly notified of way too much information today. Tweets, EAS notifications, Facebook, and all the news service apps that blast out “breaking news” every 10 minutes notify everyone all the time. If something big happens again, and believe me, there’s a shoe waiting to drop on that, we’ll all know about it when everyone’s phone starts reacting at once and we all notice the commotion. The thing is, we’ll get that information but the avenue we have chosen, instead of the news channel that’s being force fed to us through installed televisions in every nook and cranny of our existence.

What’s next? News updates over the new electronic road signs popping up on our expressways? Wow I hope not.

And it’s 5:20 AM and I’m sitting in the living room, unable to sleep for the past 45 minutes or so. After watching the events of yesterday (wow, that was quite a week!), I’m still shaking my head wondering what the hell has happened to this country. I openly wept in bed the day after Election Day in 2016 because I knew Trump’s election as president was one of the most dangerous, reckless, and stupid acts the citizens of this country had ever committed. There is no good in that man. And yet, a little less than half of the population thought he did just fine with hundreds of Americans dead from a preventable pandemic, and the crushing of any sense of law and order or decorum or anything remotely resembling intelligence in Washington, D.C.

I have no idea if that last sentence made sense as I can barely see what I’m typing in the dark, but you get my drift.

My dreams have been populated with jumbled scenes mixed with historical context and augmented by memories from my childhood. My brain is yelling at me to “turn it off” but I can’t. At 52 years old I guess I still care too much about my fellow man. Just as I used to have nightmares about nuclear annihilation when I was a teenager in the 80s, my conscience is populated with the concern of what this nation has become.

For a long time I have refrained from going on about politics and talked about anything else. Silence is not the answer. Too many people are being silent on topics and subjects that need to be discussed. The problem is the last four years have been so utterly draining for anyone with any sense of decency for their fellow citizens, or anyone with an IQ higher than the speed limit, that I’ve completely run out of steam for debate.

Watching the attack on the Capitol Building yesterday ignited a fire in me again. As I watched the Senate proceedings after control of the building was regained, my eyes misted up as I saw American Democracy in action.

Our Democracy is not a reality game show, to be won by the strongest “team” nor is it scored like a football or basketball game. I know the cable news channels like to announce scores like Joe Biden just made a lay up or Trump just made fumbled the ball, but despite the hysterics of pundits and commentators and “Magic board” operators, poll results are just the results of math equations that have already been completed.

So what does this have to do with sleep? Say what you will about 2020, but at least I was able to get sleep then. In 2021 sleep seems to be a luxury that I currently can not afford. Even as lethargic as I feel right now from a lack of sleep, I still care about this success of this country, this “Greatest Experiment”.

Hopefully I’ll be awake long enough to see the latest outcome.

Ah, sleep. The older we get, the more we want it but the less we get it. It’s 5:45 a.m. and I’ve been awake for about an hour. My husband has roamed the bedroom and rest of the condo on and off since I went to bed around 10:00 p.m. It’s what he does. I honestly don’t know how much sleep I got last night. I’d guess around six-ish hours but it wasn’t the quality sleep I’d normally enjoy. I feel rested but I’m going to need a nap during the day. Lunch hour naps are always fun. When I worked in an office I used to find a parking lot near a mall or shopping center and nap in my Jeep. Nowadays I nap on the couch after a quick bite to eat.

There’s an art to napping: too little and it’s a wasted effort, too long and you’re groggy for the rest of the day. Twenty minutes is my sweet spot. If I can get 20 minutes of nap time in around noon I’m golden for the latter half of the work day.

Part of the fun of living in a major city is the sounds of the city at night. Normally if one were to step out on the balcony they’d just hear the whine of civilization: heating units cycling on and off, an emergency siren off in the distance, a helicopter looking for news. But life starts early in the big city. The ‘L’ starts its morning runs around 4:40 a.m. Props to whoever thought running metal wheels on a metal track was a grand idea. The garbage trucks start banging the dumpsters around 5:30 a.m. The neighbors get restless around 4:00 a.m.

I’m going to go for a walk in a few minutes to officially get my day going. At least, I think I’m going to go for a walk. My eyes are starting to feel droopy as I type this blog entry. Perhaps I’ll take that midday nap early and then rearrange my walking and other exercise schedule to accommodate my mood and energy level.

It’s a new year and perhaps a good time to stop being so rigid with my schedule and start going with the flow.

In 2020 I wrote a blog entry at least once a day. Actually, once in a great while I’d write two on a day and then back date one of them because I didn’t get the chance to finish that first blog entry on that intended day. So yes, there were blog entries on every single day in 2020.

There were probably way more blog entries than readers. Personal blogs of this nature are really not the “in” thing anymore.

This blog turns 20 years old this year. My first blog entry was in the latter half of 2001. I can’t believe this site has been around for that long. It seems like just a short time ago I figured out how to move from raw HTML files to MovableType and then later to WordPress.

Many folks are hoping 2021 turns out to be a magic cure-all for everything the ails the planet right now. I just say that 2021 will be only as good as we make it to be. We’ve got to work together to make things better. That being said, I’m still quite excited about the arrival of 2021. Keep moving forward, keep learning, keep striving to make things better.

My last eye exam was in early 2018. At the time it was determined that while I could use glasses for every day living, I really should have been using glasses for reading and computer use. Since my computer time in hours numbers in the double digits on a daily basis (I am a systems engineer for a technology company), I opted to go with the computer and reading glasses. I’ve worn them on and off and they didn’t seem to help as much as I thought they would. But when I wore my computer glasses for walking around the house or out and about things were amazingly clear. I just figured “it is what it is” and went with it. My eyes started getting a little tired about six months ago, so I picked up a pair or two of $10 “cheater” glasses and have been using them when I’ve been feeling eye strain.

I decided I needed to get an eye exam in before the end of the year, so I opted to go to a different eye place that had a same day appointment available. I went to the local Warby Parker last night.

It turns out my current glasses are tinted to filter out blue light from the computer but are actually my “everyday” prescription, not my “computer and reading” prescription. In that regard, my eyes are exactly the same prescription they were back in early 2018. Dr. Li recommended I start wearing those glasses for everyday use.

She re-evaluated my computer and reading logistics and I’ve ordered a pair of glasses for that purpose as well. I like Warby Parker’s web site and app; if I want to purchase any new glasses down the road I can virtually try them on using the app and the selection is quite affordable.

We talked about Bifocals. Because of the amount of time I spend on the computer, she didn’t recommend bifocals for me because I’d be constantly moving my head up and down and around to focus and that could lead to neck strain.

So I’ll be running around with two pairs of glasses or wearing my everyday glasses and holding things out to read if I don’t have my reading glasses at hand.

The joys of aging.

The passing of this planet from what we call “2020” to what we call “2021” is actually nothing. A mere speck in the grandness of the Universe will pass by the relatively same spot around an ordinary star as it did a year ago; the measurement being assigned by those that will not make even the slightest dent in the grandness of the Universe. Nevertheless, the incrementing of the human made chronometer brings about words and thoughts of resolution, renewal, and most importantly, hope. I hope 2021 will bring this planet what it needs, not what it wants.

In years past at the New Year I have talked about my hesitation to list resolutions. I am always striving to grow and expand my knowledge, and the eve of 2021 is no different. However, with the state of the world in 2020, what with the pandemic and all, I find myself thinking more in philosophical ways. What changes in my approach to life will make for a better experience for all involved? Am I living my life as completely as possible? I am tapping my potential productively?

I’m sure the presence of these thoughts is married to the fact that I am more than a half century in age. I don’t feel like my time is running out but I do feel like I still have much more I’d like to do with my life. It’s the inner dialog that I need to fine tune. The inner voice that marked dreams as unattainable is quieter; in 2021 my one goal is to simply find more of my own self encouragement.

I hope to expand upon my reading list. I’m not looking for self-help books. I’m not looking for cookbooks to bake a beautiful life. I’m looking for seeds that will nudge me to grow more positivity. Many decades ago a high school English teacher mentioned in my yearbook that I was nice “but a complainer”. I’ve never forgotten this, after all, it’s still written write there in my yearbook in glorious Bic ballpoint pen and 20th century penmanship, but it is something I’m always trying to distance myself from. Why complain about things we have no control over? That’s an exercise in futility and I no longer want to engage in futile activities.

I look forward to the human experience improving in 2021. It has to, as 2020 was pretty bleak for most. Improve that which we have control over and don’t fret over things that we cannot control.

Perhaps that’s the key to making this speck in the Universe something a little more significant.

When Grandma City passed on I inherited her Christmas decorations. She was the crafty one of the my two grandmothers and I always enjoyed the way she decorated for Christmas. She’s the one that showed me how to change the bulb inside the reflector of one of those midget Christmas lights we had in the 1970s. Don’t mix up the voltages.

Part of her Christmas collection included these carolers. It’s a set of four of them. One of them has Little Orphan Annie eyes, but they’ve held their own for half a century.

If you look closely, you’ll notice they are candles. Yes, these caroling children are candles and have wicks coming out of the top of their head. Which makes me wonder, did people really light these children on fire as candles? Were the carolers set ablaze in some households, the cherubic singing faces melting into a puddle of multicolored wax?

Obviously Grandma City couldn’t bring herself to set these carolers on fire, hence they’re intact over 50 years later. But someone in the 1950s or 1960s had a really weird sense of humor.

I’ve mentioned this before, my interest in technology all started with electronic cash registers. As part of my deep fascination with “all things connected”, when our local retail outlets began converting from the electromechanical cash registers to their electronic equivalents in the mid to late 1970s, I was quite intrigued. These electronic wonders, which contained a tiny fraction of the computing power we have at our fingertips or on our wrists today, were amazing to me with their segmented LED displays, crisp, clanking printers, and quick computations of tax and change.

I recently obtained a few bits of memorabilia from the long gone Data Terminal Systems company of Maynard, Mass. I now have a brass keychain, a silicon chip commemorating the 75,000th electronic cash register produced by the company, and the display panel of one of their cash registers. The guidance display is for the French version, so it has markings like FERME and SOUS TOTAL instead of LOCKED and SUB TOTAL.

Seeing the display immediately reminded me of something I noticed back in the very early 1980s. On the display strip above, you’ll see the “Data Terminal Systems Series 300” is left justified to the piece of plastic. On the cash registers we had at the local grocery store, the display was identical to this (albeit in English) except it said “Data Terminal Systems Series 400” and it’s centered on the plastic. The cabinet is the same, the keyboard is the same, the cash drawer is the same, but the difference in model changed the position of the name badge. I instantly recalled noticing this back in 1981 or 1982.

Photo courtesy of globalnews.ca

Recalling this buried memory so vividly unlocked a bunch of memories and observations I had about these cash registers.

Having a memory like this is a wonderful thing. I can recall many things that make me smile. I remember wonderful things that have happened decades ago. I have no idea what I ate for lunch yesterday but I can tell you that on Fridays in elementary school we had “Fishburgers” with a side of green beans, peanuts, and a dish of apple crisp in March 1978.

Unfortunately my memory also retains the bad stuff. I recall every time I was hollered at by a teacher or authority figure. I remember taunts and teases and the like for being who I am. I recall punching my sister in the leg when I was getting too many “inputs” at once and subsequently overwhelmed by the radio, the traffic, and her yelling while driving through the small city of Watertown on the way to our semi-weekly dentist appointments. (Sorry for punching you, sis, I still feel bad about it to this day).

The key to a successful life is remembering and building upon on the good things and simply learning from the bad things and moving on. Letting go is not easy for me. Memories simply don’t fade. They may skew slightly and I imagine some day I’ll run out of storage space, but I wouldn’t trade my ability to remember things for anything, despite my tendency to dwell on the bad things from time to time.

I’m solidly in the latter half of my life and if I were to have one resolution for 2021, it would be to not sweat the small stuff and to learn from the challenges and move on. Just because we’re on the downhill slope doesn’t mean we can’t keep building and growing.

To grow with positivity is to be alive. I’ll have to remember that.

Picture courtesy of ebay

My Mom’s birthday is two days after Christmas. In 52 years I’ve never combined her birthday and Christmas presents together, because that’s just lazy. She didn’t pick her birthday so she should always get a separate memento on each holiday and I’ve stuck to that and I will stick to that until one of us moves onto the next thing.

Back when we lived in the Great Lakes mobile home (so pre-1977), Grandma City bought my Mom a GE Wildcat record player, identical to the one pictured above, for her combination Christmas and Birthday gift. It was quite the marvel with the ability to hold six albums at once and a convenient storage place for the 45 RPM adapter up in the upper left hand corner. The whole affair closed into a convenient carrying case. It was situated on the built in shelves in the mobile home “dining room”, which was actually the original living room until Dad built the addition onto the house and we had a new living room where the porch used to be.

The GE Wildcat record player made its way to the new house in September 1977 and was still going strong when I left home for college in late 1986. I don’t know what happened to it after that. I probably spun it out of favor with all my Stars on 45 records blasting in the family room. I don’t think it was ever transported to a party using the nifty carrying case feature. Maybe Mom and Dad did that under the cover of darkness after we were put to bed and guarded by a sitter.

Mom used to play Christmas music on that record player at this time of year. For some reason I remember “The White Family Christmas” but that can’t be right. I mean, would we really have “The White Family Christmas” in the mid 1970s? I’m pretty sure the album had the WT Grants logo on the back.

Outside of the Christmas season the GE Wildcat was playing Anne Murray, Kenny Rogers, or the Statler Brothers unless I was playing Stars on 45 or Elvis Presley’s “Rubberneckin”. In the mid 1980s it played many more records, all stacked up nicely and conveying the glorious synths in tiny stereophonic sound.

Before I wrap up, can I just say I find more consumer comfort in seeing the entire “GENERAL (GE) ELECTRIC” logo instead of just the modern (GE) ball we have today? It’s just part of my delightful eccentricities.

May your days be merry and bright, you wildcat.