Laws.

Kathleen Staples of Calais, Me. suffered a terrible loss this past weekend when her 22-year old son lit some fireworks and put them on his head. The predictable explosion killed him immediately. Apparently he thought the explosive was a dud. She is now calling for stricter laws on who can have access to fireworks. Because, of course, the problem was that the fireworks were accessible to her son, not the fact that her son put a live explosive on his head. While he was drunk and “goofing off”. And, let me emphasize one point, he was 22-years old. He was an adult.

On Sunday there were several videos floating around the Internet of young men shoving live firecrackers up their nose and blowing a hole in their face. Another man held a live explosive mimicking his genitalia and then either severely burned or just blew his nuts off. Stupid people do stupid things. Everyone does stupid things. It’s the level of stupidity that determines if you’re going to kill yourself or not in the process of being stupid.

I’m going to say this again. I’m going to sound like a broken record but the fact of the matter is that you can not cure stupidity. You can not legislate common sense. Laws do not make people smarter. You can not introduce enough legislation to protect idiots from being idiotic. Rules and laws are not meant to replace the responsibility of parenting. Dumb people are going to do dumb thing no matter how much red tape is involved to get there and the general public should not be forced to live under legislation that is designed to protect the absolute lowest common denominator of society.

I’m sorry that the Staples family is mourning the loss of their son. It’s heartbreaking. But calling for more legislation is not going to bring her son back from his fatal, incredibly stupid mistake.

Try Again.

So on Monday I dropped our Jeep Wrangler off at the local Jeep dealer to have some work done. It needed an oil change and the tires needed to be rotated, plus there was some hesitation/jumping around if you stepped on the gas too hard. It was obvious that either the spark plugs and/or the plug wires needed to be changed. The check engine light came on during one of the jumps.

$2300 and two days later, the Jeep was declared fixed and it could be picked up. The requested maintenance was completed, the check engine light was out, the spark plugs and wires were changed and a few other goodies added to the bill: it needed tie rods, brakes and a complete transmission flush.

$2300.

This evening, 39 miles after picking up the Jeep yesterday, the ABS warning light and the anti-skid symbol lit up the dash light a Christmas tree. On cue, one of the brakes started making a scraping noise.

I swore. I got angry. We dropped the Jeep off at the dealership without an appointment and I filled out an “early bird” form that simply said: “$2300 in service on Tuesday, 39 miles later, the ABS light is on and the brakes are making a scraping noise intermittently. FIX IT.” I authorized ZERO dollars in repairs without a phone call.

Anyone want to guess how much the dealership is going to fleece us for this next round of repairs. My guess is zero, because the contact information for the Jeep is Earl, and he puts up with nothing.

It’s one of the reasons that I love him so much.

It’s rare that the Jeep can get fixed in one pass, it usually takes two visits to the dealership to get it fixed properly. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Last autumn it was backfiring, again due to bad spark plug wires, and they told me it was because the oil pan was loose. The problem is, when the check engine light comes on, the other garage we use wouldn’t touch the Jeep until the dealership looked at it first.

Tonight’s little disappointment got me thinking about our previous vehicles. The only vehicles that we’ve had issues like this with are when we bought an American vehicle. The Hyundai and the Acura rarely had any trouble. The first Jeep would be fine for a couple of years and like our current Jeep, would require a hefty investment every couple of years.

I am hopeful that the brakes will be fixed properly this time and that the Jeep will last us for a few more years. I like it and I’m enjoying not having a car payment.

Let’s hope there’s no screaming tomorrow.

Apple Music.

I was excited when Apple announced the release of “Apple Music”, the revamping of their iTunes store to include streaming music and some other goodies. As an Apple dude, I had dreams of a beautiful interface that would be easy to use and work seamlessly across my Apple devices.

And what a dream it was.

I have been a monthly Spotify subscriber for the past couple of years. I’ve always maintained at least two music services on my devices: iTunes and the “Music” app to manage my personal collection and Spotify to listen to new music and more importantly, discover some tracks I would enjoy. By having all of this available in one app, life would be that much easier because after all, “it just works”.

Except it doesn’t.

I tried rebuilding my Spotify playlist entitled “Morning Ramp-up Two” in the new Apple Music. I used my iPhone to do this.

In Spotify you find the song and you tap on a “+” sign to add it to an existing playlist or create a new playlist. In Apple Music, the best I can tell, you have to create the playlist first and then find the song you want through the search of “My Music” or “Apple Music”. When you find the song you then have to tap at least FIVE times before the track is added to the playlist in question. And there is no confirmation that the addition has actually happened. I discovered this by tapping on the “add” button several times with no response. Upon giving up, I discovered that I had tapped the “add” button of Lenka’s “You Will Be Mine” at least 15 times because the track had been added to that playlist 15 times in a row.

No “you have a duplicate entry on your playlist warning.”
No “you have added this track to your playlist.”
No “track added, search for another?” prompt.

Nothing.

This morning I tried to play the “Morning Ramp-Up Two” playlist on my iPad. Apple Music just sat there. It showed the playlist, it offered a play button but mashing my finger on the little icon did nothing.

Or so I thought.

Actually, mashing my finger on the playlist made the “data is flowing” icon up in status bar spin but it seized up Apple Music. I couldn’t slide it around, I couldn’t back out, I could shrink it down, nothing.

I had to reboot my iPad.

Because insanity is defined by someone performing the same action and expecting a different result, I went insane when I went through the same exercise of trying to play “Morning Ramp-Up Two” not once, but twice. Both additional times brought the same result.

I’m nuts.

I ended up closing Apple Music and going with Spotify where everything worked effortlessly and easily. The way Apple products are suppose to work.

To add salt to the wound, my iPhone keeps losing its Wi-Fi connection to the Wi-Fi router here in the house, which, surprisingly enough, is a five month old Apple Airport Extreme.

Because, after all, it just works.

My brand new work MacBook Pro Retina is having some sort of seizure with using the built in Mail.app to do, well, email, so I had to resort to downloading Microsoft Outlook from the company website and running with that. And to top it all off, the beautiful, brand new 27-inch Apple Thunderbolt Display that work provided does not connect properly to my MacBook Pro Retina, I had to buy an adapter. Because, you know, technology standards. And to top it off, this is the second display I’ve had from Apple that has some sort of glitch embedded into the screen, this is a small piece of dirt that lives in the glass, appearing behind anything the appears on the screen with some weird 3D effect.

I feel bad that I insisted on using all Apple equipment for my newest career move.

Waiting for my brand new work Apple MacBook Pro Retina to reboot for the third time this afternoon so that I could get to the terminal prompt got me to thinking as to why we pay so much money for what is suppose to be a premium experience. Use of Apple products USED to be a premium experience, but it’s not anymore. While it’s fun to go into an Apple store and browse, it can be a hit or miss experience as to whether the shopping experience will be a premium excursion. The clerk that helped me try on various Apple Watches really couldn’t have cared less if I was actually there or not. The whole mantra of “it just works” no longer holds true. My biggest fear is that Apple still offers the premium experience and their latest mediocre at best offerings are what people now expect as the premium experience.

I expect more. I want more.

I just fear that I’m not going to find it anywhere.

So I’m back on Spotify and I’ve put Apple Music on the back burner, with a reminder to myself to cancel payment before the three-month trial is up. Sorry Apple, I’m one of your biggest fans but this just ain’t cutting it lately.

Toni’s Boys. 

I just stumbled upon this for the first time today. Apparently, during the fourth season of Charlie’s Angels there was a backdoor pilot for a spin off with male Angels, and it would have been called “Toni’s Boys”. 

A fan made the opening credits as shown in the YouTube link. 

The pilot was never picked up for a series, crushing the hearts of the gay men of the times. 

Watch.

One Friday in June, between my work trip to Greenville, S.C. and my work trip to Little Rock, Ark., this finally arrived in the mail:

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‘Tis true, I have an Apple Watch on my wrist. Technically it’s my third Apple Watch. I ordered one at 0305 ET on the night that they became available and then canceled the order a few days later, after trying one out at an Apple store and not being able to justify a “use case” in my head for it. A week later I had a change of heart and ordered one again and then ended up canceling it. Several apps were then announced for the Apple Watch and then I could justify a use case to have one, mostly for weather alerts and other important pilot information, so I ordered again and it finally arrived.

The Apple ordering center must love me.

It’s been three weeks and I’m still getting used to it. A lot of the reviews talked about how awful the battery life is but I haven’t experienced anything like that as of yet, at the end of the day I usually still have at least 60% of battery life left, so I end up charging my watch every two days. I don’t know why people obsess about charging their watch every day, most people I know end up charging their phone every day so why wouldn’t this be any different? It just sits on my nightstand charging next to my iPhone 6, which is also charging at the same time.

One thing I have noticed is that the battery life on my iPhone 6 is not as robust as it used to be. I blame constant communication between the iPhone and the Watch for the battery drain, as an Apple Watch can’t do much without an iPhone. In fact, I don’t think it can do anything at all.

Some things that I love about the Apple Watch:

1. ApplePay on my wrist. I have wholeheartedly adopted ApplePay on my iPhone (where it is accepted) and the first time I used it from my Apple Watch I was absolutely delighted. I was in Little Rock getting a bottled water from the hotel vending machine which accepted ApplePay. I just touched my wrist to the reader and it was instantaneous. ApplePay on the iPhone is easy-peasy, on the Apple Watch it’s even easier. Love it.

2. I like monitoring my heart rate. I don’t know why I do it, but if I feel some sort of oddity in my chest or something, it’s comforting to be able to check my heart rate immediately. I don’t often feel a flutter and according to the lack of change in my heart rate, it’s probably gas.

3. I like being able to glance at text messages and emails from folks that I have designed as “VIP”s. I had to tweak the selection of pre-programmed text messages so that they applied to my usage scenario, but the texting experience has been nearly flawless. Siri’s voice recognition works MUCH better on the Apple Watch than it does on my iPhone 6, which I find confusing since she is working from the watch through the iPhone 6 to figure things out in the first place, so I don’t know why she’s better at it on the watch but she apparently is.

Things I’m not comfortable with yet:

1. I find the interface to be a little confusing. I’ve never had “Hey Siri!” work on my watch yet and I can’t never remember what button combination is required to pull her up.

2. I am somehow taking lots of screenshots of my watch face as evidenced by the screenshots showing up in my iCloud Photo Stream. I think I must have a fat wrist or something.

3. The “Mirror my iPhone” settings in the Apple Watch app on my iPhone seems useless. For example, I had ApplePay set up to Mirror my iPhone but it didn’t do any such thing, I still had to add my credit and debit cards to my Apple Watch separately from my iPhone settings, even though it’s set to “Mirror my iPhone”.

Overall I’m pleased with my Apple Watch and I’m happy that I made the purchase. I’m looking forward to doing more of the aviation stuff with it as I fly more and more this summer.

One thing that I’m surprised about is how many people have commented that I actually have an Apple Watch. A couple of people have stopped me to ask me about it and to have a look at it and I actually enjoy talking about it and giving my honest opinion.

I don’t think the Apple Watch is ready for everyone yet, anymore than the first iteration of the iPhone was ready for the masses back in the day, but I think the Apple is on the right path and that we are going to see some great things develop with the Watch over the next few years.

Happy Independence Day!

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When I was a kid, the Fourth of July was spent at my great Aunt Frances’ house. An old farmhouse, she had a decent sized pond with two rowboats that we’d spend most of the day boating around in. One of the boats had a leak and either me or one of my cousins were designated to bail out the boat with a coffee can while the others cruised around on a three-hour tour.

One year, my two youngest cousins on that side of the family got into a fight (they were still aged in the single digits at the time) and made a big spectacle fighting in the intact boat in the middle of the pond. In a classic Laura/Nellie “Little House on the Prairie” moment, my cousin that became an animal keeper at a zoo shoved the cousin that became a Christian missionary out of the boat and into the pond. The velocity of the screams intensified and I might have suggested that there were snakes in the pond (I think I was 12 or so), which probably didn’t help the situation.

Good times, those family gatherings, good times.

We always had birthday cake at this family reunion. For the longest time I thought we were celebrating Independence Day with a birthday cake, which is kind of nifty if you think about it, but we were having cake to celebrate my great Aunt Rena’s birthday, which was July 4. Curiously, I dreamed about Aunt Rena last night, though she’s been gone for at least 15 years. She taught third grade for seemingly hundreds of years. I always likened her to Aunt Clara from “Bewitched”. She had a nice disposition. I enjoyed her.

Today I enjoy celebrating our country’s birthday but I’m not one to go around screaming “We are number one! We are number one!” because I think that’s too showy. I’ll enjoy a few barbecue items, eat some chips, watch some fireworks and thank our founding fathers for coming up with a great way to build a country.

And as others have mentioned around the Internet, no one wears the red, white and blue as well as Lynda Carter.

Continuance.

Having a little more free time to relax and recover yesterday and today, I found myself drifting deep into the early years of my blog. It struck me that my blog will turn 14 years old this summer, with the first entry in what I was calling “my journal” was from August 2001. My first blog entry talked about flying with my Dad in his homebuilt Acro-Sport II for the very first time. The last sentence of the entry, “I imagine I’ll be a private pilot someday.” seemed to be quite accurate.

Reading through the millions of words I have written over the years made me once again miss when I would take the time to sit down and write a blog entry, whether it was a creative missive, a small observation or my attempt of conveying my opinion on any given topic, versus the habit of belching out something witty in 140 characters or less on Twitter or blasting my own horn on Facebook. Over the years many blogs have come and gone and quite frankly, I miss them a lot.  I used to track everyone’s blogs via Google Reader but Google decided that they couldn’t monetize that information stream so they killed that application. I have a couple of other applications that I use instead (Feedly, TT Reader) but the experience isn’t the same. I don’t think the degradation in experience is entirely because of Google Reader’s disappearance; people are just in too much of a hurry to sit down and write a blog entry. So many blogs end like many sitcoms, no final, wrap-up episode, it just ends on a typical note.

I figure if my blog can survive the MySpace era, it can continue to exist in the Twitter and Facebook era. Unlike 90% of the blogs out there which talk about important subjects and have opinion and conjection spun into a representation of the truth, my blog has always been a creative outlet. It’s the precursor to the selfie (and I’d like to think much less obnoxious). It gives insight to my life and the way I think in a more complete manner. Usually I think before I write. I’m not trying to entertain, I’m just trying to be myself here. 

Looking back at the entries I wrote in 2005, when I had the same surgical procedure that I’m recovering from right now, it’s amazing to see how much things have changed and yet stayed the same. The world is in turmoil, I’m obsessed with gadgets and I’m still trying to lose weight. On the last point, with all the weight I’ve lost in my adult years I should be about the weight of a bedsheet by now. Have you ever tried to put skinny jeans on a bedsheet? Not a pretty picture. So what’s changed? I’ve grown a little more conservative in my expectations of the general public and I’m definitely not as salacious as I used to be. I’ve told Earl that once I have the hardware from the surgery removed, I’ll probably be much more randy than I’ve been over the past year or so. He said he’ll prepare for the event and then he smiled.

I don’t think I’ll write about that, though.

With everyone’s reliance on texts and tweets and status updates, I wonder what the world will be like in a decade or two after the “abbreviated communication” crowd grows older. It could be that my blog will still be around, looking as ancient as the penmanship on the Declaration of Independence.

Hopefully it’ll still make people smile.

Almost Like New.

Another discussion that some may find to be TMI. Please feel free to skip this entry if you get squeamish.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table ready to head to bed as soon as I get ready to do so. Today was a fairly good day; the surgery went well, everyone at the hospital was friendly and thankfully, the doctor didn’t have to insert what’s known as a Supra Pubic Catheter. I had not one, not two, not three, but four strictures, or clumps of scar tissue, that had to be removed. The pictures of the surgery show my urethra to now be clean as whistle and I am wearing a regular catheter for the next 10 days. I’ll be able to take it out the day before my birthday.

That will be a nice birthday present.

After carrying around nearly 900 ml of fluid in my bladder for who knows how long, I feel great not having that “I have to pee” feeling on a constant basis. Things are flowing through the catheter and with the help of some pain medicine, I’m feeling alright. In fact, I’m pretty sure I feel better than I did at this stage of the game back when I had the same procedure in 2005. It could be because I know what to expect, but I’m doing alright. A little groggy but in good spirits.

Earl was kind enough to take a couple of photos (with my consent, and maybe I suggested it for posterity’s sake), before and after the surgery. I don’t think I look too bad.

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Bionics Upgrade v4.0.

Some may find this post to be TMI, as it talks about my health and some of areas of the body that some find inappropriate for conversation. I write about this in case others may have the same issue and are searching the Internet for similar experiences. If you don’t want to read about “my junk”, please feel free to go to Google and search for something more pleasant to read. I won’t be offended.

There are a couple of opinions as to why I’m about to talk about what I’m going to talk about. Some say that I was born with a birth defect. Others have told me that somehow inflicted some sort of trauma to this particular spot, maybe as the result of hitting the handlebars as a kid or something. Personally I wonder if aliens were involved and they got carried away with one of their experiments or something.

Whatever the case, the scar tissue has returned after a decade of behaving itself.

Curious as to what I’m talking about? Well, I discuss the last ‘bionics upgrade’ here, so I won’t get into the nitty gritty. The short version of the story is, scar tissue grows in my urethra and because of this, I find myself unable to urinate in a normal manner. All has been well until earlier this year, when my “stream” slowed down. A visit to the urologist confirmed that the scar tissue was returning. That occasion marked a first as it was the first time someone took an X-ray of my junk.

The difficulties have continued, so I had a follow up with the urologist today. After going the bathroom, some poking, prodding and measuring determined that I still had 850ml of urine left in my bladder.

That’s almost one liter!

So tomorrow morning, bright and early at 6:00 AM, I’m undergoing a repeat surgery of the procedures I had in 1982, 1986 and 2005. I’m hopeful that this will correct the issue for another decade. The urologist cautioned that if he can’t do what he did before that they’ll have to put in a catheter outside of my junk until they can do a different procedure. However, things are still working better than they did back in ’05, so I’m hopeful that it won’t come to that measure.

When he told me that he could do the surgery tomorrow I have to admit that I was relieved (no pun intended). I really want to get this taken care of so I can get on with my summer.

I’m happy that I only have to obsess about this for just 24 hours before the actual procedure.