Friends may help me to move my blog. we will see. If I move, I'll leave an address, computer or more. We'll see.
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Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Using Fiction When Truth Is Too Bizarre
Today, I spoke to a friend I have been worried about.
You see, she is recovering from a rare cancer that has kept her homebound a lot.
So she's gotten on the Internet. i would, too.
Only--she had an empty nest. She was lonely. So she succumbed to a computer dating service. And kinda fell in love.
She was on a protected site. He persuaded her to go off-site. He learned her emails. He was out-of-country, he said, and wanted to come straight to her when he got back to the States. And then he started needing money.
I think he got about $5,000, maybe a little more, from her. This cuts her options. It doesn't remove a roof from her head, or a car, or well-being physically. It really cuts in to things she might have done for herself and loved ones. It cut deeply into her self esteem. And it cut deeper into her trust of her fellow human beings.
Oh, yeah, it cut into her survival funds, but she will survive. Others won't. This guy figures whatever price you pay is the cost of his performance. Destitution does not move him. Fortunately not relevant in this case.
Who is worse? The thief that leaves you destitute? or the murderer who takes your life?
Thievery is a profession. Murder often is a one-time thing. Yes, there are assassins. Not many. But so many thieves. Thieves who believe you exist for their comfortable life. Often it isn't that comfortable. That gives me satisfaction.
My friend has decided to capitalize. She's starting a fictional novel, based on truth, of her experience. She's picked a title. She's already written a successful book--a textbook in use today.
He demeaned her and cost her money. She can document it in a book, and hopefully make all her money back. Hell. It could be a best seller. I wouldn't put it past her.
I love it. He scammed her, she gave him money, saved all the transcripts and can recoup from the book.
She's made a great recovery. I can't wait to read the book.
You see, she is recovering from a rare cancer that has kept her homebound a lot.
So she's gotten on the Internet. i would, too.
Only--she had an empty nest. She was lonely. So she succumbed to a computer dating service. And kinda fell in love.
She was on a protected site. He persuaded her to go off-site. He learned her emails. He was out-of-country, he said, and wanted to come straight to her when he got back to the States. And then he started needing money.
I think he got about $5,000, maybe a little more, from her. This cuts her options. It doesn't remove a roof from her head, or a car, or well-being physically. It really cuts in to things she might have done for herself and loved ones. It cut deeply into her self esteem. And it cut deeper into her trust of her fellow human beings.
Oh, yeah, it cut into her survival funds, but she will survive. Others won't. This guy figures whatever price you pay is the cost of his performance. Destitution does not move him. Fortunately not relevant in this case.
Who is worse? The thief that leaves you destitute? or the murderer who takes your life?
Thievery is a profession. Murder often is a one-time thing. Yes, there are assassins. Not many. But so many thieves. Thieves who believe you exist for their comfortable life. Often it isn't that comfortable. That gives me satisfaction.
My friend has decided to capitalize. She's starting a fictional novel, based on truth, of her experience. She's picked a title. She's already written a successful book--a textbook in use today.
He demeaned her and cost her money. She can document it in a book, and hopefully make all her money back. Hell. It could be a best seller. I wouldn't put it past her.
I love it. He scammed her, she gave him money, saved all the transcripts and can recoup from the book.
She's made a great recovery. I can't wait to read the book.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Their are Citizens' Rights. And Then There Is the Family Credo
Does your family have a credo that defines you? More or less, even if we are alone, we do.
Sometimes it just defines us. More welcoming, more warming, is when it defines family, either big or little.
From my grandparents: Don't lie. Do honest business. Always wear good, well-cared-for shoes (Sophia Loren once agreed with that last in an interview. She said you can get away with a cheap but flattering dress, but the shoes must always be good. My grandfather would have approved.) Go to church. Tithe if you can. Save money. Vote.
Volunteer. Garden. Laugh often
From my parents: Don't ever lie, even if it hurts. It will hurt less in the long run. Always vote. Pay your bills. Live below your income so you can save if you can. Take your children to church. Contribute to the community. Enjoy art and music. Garden. Eat a lot of green and yellow vegetables, including green chiles and onions. Trust good friends. Laugh often. Read. Read. Read. Everything. See the humans in history and learn the past. Treasure it. My father once told me he could have made more money easily if he had taken some perfectly prevalent shortcuts. It was the first time I ever saw that celebratory gleam in his eye, that wolfish grin. "Doing it honest is harder," he told me, "but it can be done." Be proud of your honesty.
Take care of yourself. You owe it to family to be proactive on health.
And, "Love with all your heart," my father told me, "But marry with your head."
What have I inculcated in this and added to? What do I see my sons observing and/or teaching?
Honesty.Courage to be honest. A liking of history. A basic love of a lot of vegetables.
We all vote. We all honor education and also music and art. We all vote. We must. And as we can, we donate blood and organs.
Retrospective is easier than current.
One thing that sticks out: my family has a tradition of voting. I don't know why neither of my grandmothers told me about getting the vote or their first time, but neither said a word. Maybe they thought it was enough that when I was growing up I took it for granted women voted, and they didn't want to spoil that. Or something. I'll never know. Maybe by then, they just accepted it. They had been voting more than 20 years by my birth.
I love extended voting, and already have voted. This year, for the first time, I toyed with not voting. Three generations. a family code of honor. Vote.
So I did. And I would be discombobulated for the next four years if I hadn't. Actually, another family mantra: you have no right to complain if you haven't voted.
Thank God I voted.
I could never keep my mouth shut for four years.
Sometimes it just defines us. More welcoming, more warming, is when it defines family, either big or little.
From my grandparents: Don't lie. Do honest business. Always wear good, well-cared-for shoes (Sophia Loren once agreed with that last in an interview. She said you can get away with a cheap but flattering dress, but the shoes must always be good. My grandfather would have approved.) Go to church. Tithe if you can. Save money. Vote.
Volunteer. Garden. Laugh often
From my parents: Don't ever lie, even if it hurts. It will hurt less in the long run. Always vote. Pay your bills. Live below your income so you can save if you can. Take your children to church. Contribute to the community. Enjoy art and music. Garden. Eat a lot of green and yellow vegetables, including green chiles and onions. Trust good friends. Laugh often. Read. Read. Read. Everything. See the humans in history and learn the past. Treasure it. My father once told me he could have made more money easily if he had taken some perfectly prevalent shortcuts. It was the first time I ever saw that celebratory gleam in his eye, that wolfish grin. "Doing it honest is harder," he told me, "but it can be done." Be proud of your honesty.
Take care of yourself. You owe it to family to be proactive on health.
And, "Love with all your heart," my father told me, "But marry with your head."
What have I inculcated in this and added to? What do I see my sons observing and/or teaching?
Honesty.Courage to be honest. A liking of history. A basic love of a lot of vegetables.
We all vote. We all honor education and also music and art. We all vote. We must. And as we can, we donate blood and organs.
Retrospective is easier than current.
One thing that sticks out: my family has a tradition of voting. I don't know why neither of my grandmothers told me about getting the vote or their first time, but neither said a word. Maybe they thought it was enough that when I was growing up I took it for granted women voted, and they didn't want to spoil that. Or something. I'll never know. Maybe by then, they just accepted it. They had been voting more than 20 years by my birth.
I love extended voting, and already have voted. This year, for the first time, I toyed with not voting. Three generations. a family code of honor. Vote.
So I did. And I would be discombobulated for the next four years if I hadn't. Actually, another family mantra: you have no right to complain if you haven't voted.
Thank God I voted.
I could never keep my mouth shut for four years.
Monday, October 22, 2012
When Your Icon Burns to Cinders
If you live anywhere but Texas, you may not have heard our 52-foot statue, that waves and talks to the crowds, burned to cinders on Friday. He had been up 60 years. People in Texas took it hard.
It's purely a Texican thing, I guess.
I have never been to the State Fair of Texas (we can be rather formal) without going by Big Tex, waving his hand and amiably saying, "Howdy, Folks," in that ubiquitous Texas drawl scientists now say really doesn't exist. But it does.
He didn't have that many moving parts. How did he catch fire? The Bubba part of me is suspicious. The rest of me is just plain sad.
Big Tex wasn't that much younger. He was part of the fair, like the livestock, the exhibits, the rides.
"Meet you at six at Big Tex!" parents would call off to generations of Texas kids.
His burning hurt me to watch. It didn't even go viral. This is a local tragedy.
TEXAS MOURNS BIG TEX STATUE BURNING, VOWS TO RECREATE.
Good. That's good.
Watching those flames around the hat, the body....I can't explain it. I can only tell non-Texans it is so. We hurt. We burned. This was a damn giant-sized dummy, and we loved him. Please excuse us while we grieve.
I hear bigger and better is coming, but not at least for a year.
That's good.
We need enough time to hear this 52-foot skeleton gasp one final phrase: "I loved all of you."
Because Big Tex did. He was programmed that way.
Wish more of us humans were.
It's purely a Texican thing, I guess.
I have never been to the State Fair of Texas (we can be rather formal) without going by Big Tex, waving his hand and amiably saying, "Howdy, Folks," in that ubiquitous Texas drawl scientists now say really doesn't exist. But it does.
He didn't have that many moving parts. How did he catch fire? The Bubba part of me is suspicious. The rest of me is just plain sad.
Big Tex wasn't that much younger. He was part of the fair, like the livestock, the exhibits, the rides.
"Meet you at six at Big Tex!" parents would call off to generations of Texas kids.
His burning hurt me to watch. It didn't even go viral. This is a local tragedy.
TEXAS MOURNS BIG TEX STATUE BURNING, VOWS TO RECREATE.
Good. That's good.
Watching those flames around the hat, the body....I can't explain it. I can only tell non-Texans it is so. We hurt. We burned. This was a damn giant-sized dummy, and we loved him. Please excuse us while we grieve.
I hear bigger and better is coming, but not at least for a year.
That's good.
We need enough time to hear this 52-foot skeleton gasp one final phrase: "I loved all of you."
Because Big Tex did. He was programmed that way.
Wish more of us humans were.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Surely Computers Will Get Better X )
How do I hate a machine?
I don't hate my vacuum cleaner, my hair dryer, my mixer that runs too fast. I don'r hate my machines. Cuss them occasionally. No hate.I bought them. They have flaws. I deal.
And until I buy an upgrade, they will continue to have flaws I know and can deal with.
Computers are different in so many ways. And the geeks that make my life a misery are doing their jobs. Why they think a customer wants to wake up and find new updates all the time that change my interaction constantly...well, in an alien way, I understand. The designers love it. They think I will love it. I bet they are all under 30. At least under 40.
They are doing what they do. DON'T THEY UNDERSTAND i'VE JUST SPENT A MONTH LEARNING WHAT THEY HAVE JUST DESTROYED AND RECONFIGURED?
Actually, no they don't. They think it's neat. It's kind of like leaving the living room clean and inviting children in with Silly String. Oh, and paying a fee to do it.
I just rebooted to find my major clicks on top instead of the bottom WHERE THEY ALWAYS HAVE BEEN. (What do I do to show an insincere smile with teeth? I need it.)
It's like living in a house where strangers feel free to move the furniture around.
And I don't have an answer, but this is rude. Insensitive. Mean. They are the only carrier for PC so I can't change.
So this is how I hate a machine. I have no power currently to get what I want. They are wanking me around.
If I had a human, I could stop this. I only have a multi-personal computer.
God, hear me. I truly hate it.
I don't hate my vacuum cleaner, my hair dryer, my mixer that runs too fast. I don'r hate my machines. Cuss them occasionally. No hate.I bought them. They have flaws. I deal.
And until I buy an upgrade, they will continue to have flaws I know and can deal with.
Computers are different in so many ways. And the geeks that make my life a misery are doing their jobs. Why they think a customer wants to wake up and find new updates all the time that change my interaction constantly...well, in an alien way, I understand. The designers love it. They think I will love it. I bet they are all under 30. At least under 40.
They are doing what they do. DON'T THEY UNDERSTAND i'VE JUST SPENT A MONTH LEARNING WHAT THEY HAVE JUST DESTROYED AND RECONFIGURED?
Actually, no they don't. They think it's neat. It's kind of like leaving the living room clean and inviting children in with Silly String. Oh, and paying a fee to do it.
I just rebooted to find my major clicks on top instead of the bottom WHERE THEY ALWAYS HAVE BEEN. (What do I do to show an insincere smile with teeth? I need it.)
It's like living in a house where strangers feel free to move the furniture around.
And I don't have an answer, but this is rude. Insensitive. Mean. They are the only carrier for PC so I can't change.
So this is how I hate a machine. I have no power currently to get what I want. They are wanking me around.
If I had a human, I could stop this. I only have a multi-personal computer.
God, hear me. I truly hate it.
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