Me.

This blog is a pretty accurate representation of who I am in real life. I don’t worry about the number of hits I get here (though WordPress really wants me to bump up my SEO!) and I write for myself just as much as I write for anyone that may stumble across this blog. I hope I make readers smile once in a while.

When I started my radio gig in the early 1990s I was told that I need to “look a little more modern” for my publicity shots. I grew out my flattop, wore clothes from places like Filene’s and Jordan Marsh, and wore a Swatch watch on my wrist. It wasn’t really me but I suppose you have to have a certain look when you’re on radio (he writes ironically). There’s a certain style one must have when you’re giving away the grand prize of a Mother’s Day Promotion – a vacuum cleaner at a local dealer’s shop. Draw the number and listen for the squeals of delight.

I didn’t maintain my “radio look” for very long and I went back to flattop and my own look after a year or so. It was much more comfortable. I didn’t really feel comfortable in my own skin until I was in my very early 50s. I’m more me than I’ve ever been and that’s good.

One of the things I like about Mastodon as a social media platform (versus Twitter, Facebook, and all the other corporately algorithmic doom scrolling machines) is it feels like more people are much more genuine. I feel comfortable engaging with the folks I meet in that space. It’s all nice to see so many familiar faces moving over from Twitter. There’s no algorithm to game so there’s not as many people engaging in tricks to game the stream. Many folks dependent on the monetary gain, dopamine hits, etc. dependent on these games are declaring Mastodon, and the Fediverse in general, a lost cause. Probably because they don’t know who they need to be to get the recognition they’re craving.

I’m fine with that. If this was that Black Mirror episode “Nose Dive”, I’d definitely be the Cherry Jones truck driver character.

And that’s awesome.

Huzzah.

The Mac mini on the right is not controlling the screen in this photo.

I’ve mentioned many times that one of my rules about choosing programs and services to use in my “computing stack” is that the data has to be available across the board. I refuse to be locked into one ecosystem. If I type a document on my Mac, it has to be easily accessible from my iPad, my Linux machines, and any Windows computer I may have fired up at any given time.

There are two programs/services/needs I have struggled with for years when it comes to this interoperability: task management and my daily journaling habit.

I have maintained a daily journal (outside of this blog) for over a decade. Back in the days when I was all in on Apple I used Day One, which does exactly what it’s suppose to do. It lets me attach photos, I can write an entry in a freeform style or I can build templates and share my thoughts in an organized fashion at the end of the day. I love Day One but it was mostly confined to the Apple ecosystem. If I carried my Linux computer while traveling, I had to journal through the iOS app on my iPhone, which is OK but not a great experience.

I tried moving my journaling habits to Obsidian, but it required a little too much in the way of care and feeding to keep things working the way I like them to work. I kept going back to Day One.

Today I learned Day One is beta testing a web interface. And because I am a premium subscriber (which backs up all of my journal entries in an end-to-end encrypted space), I have access to this beta test. And so far it is wonderful.

Some folks may question using the proprietary Day One format instead of plain-text based Obsidian, but one of the things I like about Day One is that I can easily export my journal entries to plain text. And that’s a beautiful thing.

The other struggle has been around task management. I have kept an electronic to-do list for many years and recently have relied on the todo.txt plain text task management system. I used Dropbox to keep these text files synchronized across my devices. The issue I constantly run into is “version collisions”, for example, is the online version or the version on my iPhone the most up to date? I’ve run into situations where I’ve overwritten important tasks when trying to reconcile versions. This makes me not trust my todo management and then I start worrying that I’m going to forget something important.

OmniFocus is an amazing task management system that I enjoyed for years. The problem with OmniFocus is that it’s traditionally been an Apple based experience. Work requires that I use their standard issue Windows 10 computer. And I’ve been using my Linux machines as my daily drivers for a while now. Luckily, the OmniGroup offers a web interface to OmniFocus and the version currently in testing is pretty much on parity with what their applications offer. Like Day One, it’s easy to export to plain text files, and I can automate that practice so I always have an text-based backup.

Both of these web based solutions meet my “the data can’t be locked into one ecosystem” criteria.

I’m going to give these web based solutions a try for the month of March as part of my on-going “30 day personal growth” challenge I try to embark on every month.

On the plus side, using these subscription based web interfaces also will save me money, as both are cheaper per year than the former counterparts I was using. So, while I’m saving money with software subscription costs, I’m also able to use older Linux-based computers that can be repaired and upgraded to keep up with the times instead of forced obsolescence that we often see with Apple products.

Win win is always a great thing.

Caturday.

Truman occasionally gives me a look when we’re getting settled in to watch TV for the evening. Here we had just finished a couple of episodes of “The Good Wife” and he felt it was now time for treats.

Hockey.

Hockey season seems very long to me. Tonight they announced there are 18 more games in the season for the Tucson Roadrunners. We won’t be going to every game, as every game is not at home and we don’t have a full season package.

Tonight’s game was fun but we lost 15 seconds into overtime. Sometimes that’s the way the puck goes.

Dear Apple, Part 4.

Dear Apple,

I really don’t know what’s going on with you lately. Your road show Sybil, Siri, is doing wonders with messing up my HomeKit experience on a daily basis, but now we have a new game.

It’s called “let’s change the clock”.

You see, I like my time display on my iPhone to be shown on a 24-hour clock. As I type this shortly before bed, the clock says 21:52. I’m smart enough to know that means 9:52 PM. But I prefer to have my time displayed in military time. It’s just how my brain is wired.

When some new bug resulted in the blurred out mess you see in the screenshot above, I had no choice but to hard power cycle my iPhone. Yes, that’s my home screen, after I tried swiping and moving and turning the screen on and off for five minutes but no, you wanted everything to be just a big blur. Because, after all, It Just Works. Except, you took that reset to move my time display choice back to a 12-hour clock. This morning my temperature displays were in Celsius, even though they’re set for Fahrenheit, and my time display was showing a 12-hour clock even though it was set for a 24-hour clock. And all my HomePods were suddenly reporting the weather report in Celsius. Which I specifically have turned off because it confuses the rest of the house.

I really don’t know what’s going on.

I tried getting rid of that big blurred out mess you see above and I was able to get to this before I had to do that whole hard power reset thing.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I just expect to much, like fairly expensive technology to work properly. I know that my next laptop will probably not be an Apple product because I just can’t trust your quality control anymore. And if I’m going to have a mediocre experience I’m not going to pay a premium price for that experience.

Snow.

Forecasters had predicted snow would generally stay about an elevation of 4000 feet, with maybe a dusting down to the desert floor. I guess we can say 3 1/2 inches of snow is a dusting.

Winds were gusting up to 50 MPH when we went to bed last night and it was raining. I guess Mother Nature had other plans. She’s not happy with what humans are doing to her planet.

Selfie.

I was playing around with the webcam in my resurrected Lenovo ThinkPad T460s the other day. Here’s a selfie taken with this computer running Pop!_OS. I used the Cheese application.

The result has a slight “Lucille Ball in ‘Mame’” Vaseline on the camera lens haze to it.

Test.

It looks like WordPress is moving away from their WordPress app and wanting users to use their JetPack app instead. Of course, JetPack involves a yearly subscription, but it wouldn’t be 2023 if a software company wasn’t trying to coax a constant revenue stream out of users.

Eventually I will move to something open source and free (as in likenfree beer) software to power this anxious blog. In the meanwhile I shall play the game.

Words.

When I was back in my hometown a couple of weeks ago to address medical needs with Mom, we talked about many things. We talked about happy memories, wondered aloud as to the whereabouts of several people from our past, and discussed the weather. We always talk about the weather. It’s the Lake Ontario Snowbelt, after all.

My sister was also at the hospital and while visiting with Mom the subject of our high school days came up. It’s been decades since those turbulent times in my past but I can still vividly recall too many memories. Many of those memories are happy, too many of those memories make me sad.

Mom brought up the “11th grade Ethics class incident” (recanted in a cut and paste from a post from 2021 below) and how she felt when the Vice-Principal mentioned she should perhaps take me home for the day. My sister had never heard any of this and was surprised it wasn’t ever discussed at home. In the mid 1980s a gay teenager didn’t heartily discuss the abuse from other classmates (and some teachers) with his family. My how times have changed over the decades. I mentioned to mom and sister, “Karen O’Brien probably saved my life that day”. My sister let out an audible gasp.

I have been blessed(?) with a crazy, full sensory memory that is a blessing but is also sometimes a curse. Words have impact. I sometimes feel a bit crazy around the way words are so carelessly tossed around on the Internet, as if the anonymization of the author reduces impact. For some it does not.

I’m not suggesting, endorsing, and asking for censorship. That’s not the way. I ask that people speak the truth and perhaps maintain a bit of respect.

Now, the original blog entry from 2021.

“Mr. Wing, do you know what a homosexual is”?

The 10th grade biology teacher’s voice boomed through the room with this question posed to me; it was his way of gathering control of the class for the next 41 minutes of 6th period and since we were apparently to talk about the importance of the prefix “homo” in the scientific world, the disheveled man apparently thought it humorous to fixate on me and ask this question that carefully treaded a line. The girl to my right, we’ll call her Jeannine, laughed at me. I’m not surprised. She wasn’t known for being an exceptionally nice person. To be fair, it was a nice change of pace to hear her laugh because usually she was crying about something or barking out with a special amount of bitchiness one can find amongst high school sophomores in the 1980s. To my left, my table mate, we’ll call her Lori, whispered “asshole” under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear her word of support. I turned beet red, stammered more than usual trying to formulate something, anything to come out of my mouth, and feverishly wished for the kid at the table in front of me to have a seizure or something. The rest of the class laughed, the word faggot was shared once or twice and I was asked that very same question by various members of that class for the rest of the week. This is the stuff sophomores live for. The teacher had control of the class, I did not, and I was humiliated.

I do not forget these things. It rings as loud in my head in 2021 as it did in late 1983. I imagine most gay men, especially those of us of a certain age, have not forgotten instances like these. This is what we grew up with. Welcome to growing up gay in the Gen X set.

“Well let’s face it, John will have a hard time being gainfully employed”.

Another nugget of wisdom, this time from a fellow classmates in Ethics class, which was in the latter half of my junior year of high school. This time it was 4th period and I really just wanted to go to lunch at 11:04.

“Why not?”, queried the teacher, who, at the beginning of class, had instructed us to arrange our desks in a circle so we could debate things like whether or not a functional homosexual like I apparently was destined to be (calm down Mom, I wasn’t a ‘functional’ homosexual at the time) was a good or bad thing for society. Would our gayness cause the fall of the United States. (Spoiler alert, it did not).

“His mannerisms and way of speaking are going to prevent serious employers from hiring him”, was the response.

I don’t know what happened to that classmate after high school and I don’t really care to Google him to find out. Why waste the bits? Who knows and who cares. In the moment I looked for support from another classmate, we’ll call him Mike, that I really knew “to be on the team” (he is and we actually shared a kiss a couple of years later) but he turned on me with the rest of them, laughed, and made detrimental comments. That was probably the first time in my life that I wondered if I was going to be anything at all and if I wasn’t going to be anything, why continue the charade? Was my life worth anything?

The teacher of that class had to dash off at 11:04 to do some Vice Principal duties, but he checked in with me at the end of class and asked if I was OK. When he saw tears building in my eyes, after the longest 41 minutes I’ve probably endured in my life, he told me I was a good guy and asked another teacher to have a chat with me in his office to get me grounded again. He knew I was mentally not well. I can safely say I probably owe my life to that other teacher. Her name is Karen O’Brien. She taught Special Ed, but through talking with her she helped me find my worth again that day and honestly probably doesn’t even know the depth of the impact she had on me that day. She talked me off a psychological ledge. Years prior to this she had put as her caption under her photo in the yearbook, “People – they fascinate me. I haven’t met one yet that didn’t impress me”. Words to live by. I think of her often. I should probably send her a thank you note someday.

Why do I share this? There’s a number of reasons. First of all, what we say matters. Whether we say it out loud, in print, or anywhere on the Internet, our words are making an impact, whether positive or negative. We might not know it. We don’t know the state of mind of every person that is going to read what we type or listen to what we say. We should never lose sight of this. The two incidents I talk about are from decades ago, yet I remember all of these things as if it took place yesterday. My frame of mind is better about all of this, but I still feel the sting. These things, and countless others during my school years, have made a permanent impact on my life experience. Am I better for it? Over 35 years, I can probably say yes, but it took a lot of soul searching, and that very important talk with teacher Karen O’Brien, to keep me going.

When I hear members of Congress calling one another “Communists” or spouting out provable falsehoods just to rile up a crowd I can’t help but think how much negative impact those words are having on the country. When I see people touting things like “Straight Pride” or all the bad things that will allegedly happen to gay people because of who they are, I worry about those that don’t have a Karen O’Brien talking them off a psychological ledge.

I share these things because the distance of time and the subsequent experience of life has safely moved me beyond these negative events in my life. Weirdly, I’m probably a better and stronger person because of them.

Let’s use the right words. Let’s send positive energy into the world. Let’s not use negativity to command a room. Let’s be one of those people that impress others.

Impress each other in a good way.

Optimism.

I don’t listen to as many podcasts as I used to. When we lived in Chicago, I would listen to several podcasts, working my way through them as I walked the streets of the North Side around our Lakeview adjacent neighborhood. Towards the end of our Chicago tenure, I found myself getting more irritated than anything with the podcasts I had selected for my daily walk, so I switched to curated music playlists.

When we arrived in Tucson I continued my trend of listening to music while out for a walk in the desert sun, but there’s only so many times one can listen to disco or Yacht Rock radio and not start yearning for something different. I didn’t go back to my old list of podcasts. I decided political and technical podcasts were the source of some of the glum feeling I felt after listening to those podcasts, so instead I looked for something a little more optimistic.

Enter, “A Bit of Optimism” from Simon Sinek.

Simon started this podcast during in the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and has continued this trend. I thought the podcast had disappeared earlier in 2022, but it started appearing in my podcast list back in November and it’s one podcast that I really looking forward to each week. New episodes are released on Tuesdays and as I make my way through the desert landscape, I enjoy each week’s episode which invariably gives me a better outlook on life and brings a smile to my face.

Simon’s natural banter, infectious laugh, and ability to bring a positive spin on life is contributing to a more centered feeling I enjoy in my middle aged years. If you’re into podcasts and you are looking for a bit of optimism in your life, I highly recommend this podcast.

Join me as I talk with people that inspire me about love, life, leadership, and silver linings. The hope is that we all leave with something I think we need these days… A Bit of Optimism. 

Thanks for listening.