writing

Curious about Technology

Posted by

0

I am and have been curious about technology development, control theory, computational machines, artificial intellects and all things associated with that last mispronouncement. The laptop I bought to write with has a confusing Windows 11 file structure and it has also a little symbol labeled Copilot. An MSN icon in the lower left corner of the screen tells me the weather when click on it. Additionally it tells me little random newsie teasers and various ads for items that I have looked at in the past online.

I believe this to be the actual real usefulness of AI, creating income and improving income streams from targeted advertising. Many others believe that AI will be the death of us as we fall for videos of peoples’ faces we admire pasted onto bodies of people we find despicable. I just do not think that to be a truism or even an alternative truth.

An advertisement for a pillowcase was shown to me when I clicked on the weather icon. Intrigued I began to read the ad. I could not get away from how AI-generated it read.

I asked Copilot – I am developing a new pillowcase. Help me write a story and develop advertising. It sent the following back to me:

🛏️ Sink into a story… where comfort becomes the main character.

🌟 Introducing: The Pillowcase That Changed Sleep Forever

In a world plagued by restless nights and scratchy fabrics, one inventor dared to dream differently. Frustrated by the endless cycle of discomfort, Johnathan—a sleep visionary—crafted what no tired soul thought possible: a pillowcase that wasn’t just soft, but revolutionary.

This isn’t your grandmother’s pillow slip. It’s a sleep sanctuary woven with breathable fibers and stitched with thoughtful design. Temperature-regulating, wrinkle-resistant, and impossibly gentle on skin and hair—this pillowcase redefines what bedtime can be.

But that’s just the beginning.

🎯 Whether you’re winding down after a long day, diving into your favorite book, or waking up feeling like royalty, this new style pillowcase turns every moment in bed into luxury. It’s not just an accessory—it’s the unsung hero of your nighttime routine. [That is quite compelling. At this point I want to know, how much?]

✨ Sleep better. Wake brighter. Dream deeper. [HOLY COW! LET ME GET SOME!]

Would you like this story to match a specific tone—like playful, sleek, or luxury chic? I can tailor it to fit your brand voice or even build out a whole campaign with slogans, product descriptions, and social media teasers. [YES. I typed. How about some slogans?]

Absolutely! Here are some punchy slogans to spark your pillowcase campaign, ranging from cozy and clever to sleek and stylish:

🛌 Comfy & Clever

  • “Dreams Start Here.”
  • “Softness That Sleeps With You.”
  • “The Pillowcase That Tucks You In.”
  • “Turn Down the Tossing & Turning.”
  • “Wake Up to Wow.”

👑 Luxury & Elegant

  • “Sleep, Styled.”
  • “Where Texture Meets Tranquility.”
  • “Because Your Skin Deserves Silk.”
  • “Rest Like Royalty.”
  • “Wrapped in Comfort. Waking in Bliss.”

✨ Modern & Bold

  • “Not Just a Pillowcase. A Sleep Revolution.”
  • “Feel the Difference Overnight.”
  • “Upgrade Your Dreams.”
  • “Sleep Smarter. Live Softer.”
  • “Designed for Dreamers.”

Want to play off a specific theme—like tech-forward, eco-friendly, or spa vibes? I can fine-tune the slogans to fit your style or brand tone.

[AND ON AND ON it goes. I could play this game all morning. Huh. It is noon already.]

Carpe Diem.

Connections and Disconnections

Posted by

0

Mike has passed away, as polite or timid people say. I did not know him well. We had mutual employment at an old line Cincinnati company many years ago. I ran into him later on in life at some family gathering. He was married to the sister of my sister-in-law through marriage to my deceased wife’s brother. A third order connection to be sure but nevertheless I had known him in life. And I had known that he was dying. His death was unreported through whatever little grapevine I have left.

I felt an odd feeling of disconnectedness.

A couple of years ago I learned of my aunt’s death from the U. S. postal service. Not in the way that you might imagine. The USPS told me by returning my Christmas card that I had sent the previous December. The card returned sometime in March.

I remember feeling not anger but a disconnectedness. Perhaps a year or two previously I had called the only number I had to report the death of my mother to her only surviving sister. Aunt Ruth’s daughter my cousin Jean answered the phone. We had not talked to each other since childhood so I explained who I was and what I wanted to tell Aunt Ruth. (Maybe I had a little anger. I reached out to the west to report Mom’s death.) It was about a year and a half later that the postal service made their report to me.

I have thought about this disconnectedness that occurs in families before. There are many causes; distance both physical and mental, disinterest, religion, age, death.

When Mom was still alive and still moving around pretty good, I asked if she would like to go visit her sister Ruth. Aunt Ruth lived in Las Cruses New Mexico and they had lived there for a long time. She had met my Uncle Dick when they were both in the service. Uncle Dick had, among other duties, flown helicopters in Vietnam. They settled in New Mexico after he left the service. Mom and Dad had visited with them in a past life after I had moved out of their house and moved into our house with Cheryl.

Mom entertained that idea for a minute or so and replied no. I said, “Mom, what if I called her on the phone?” No. I did not press the plan. (Disinterest, distance)

Family connection would have possibly helped with the feeling of disconnectedness that I felt when Aunt Ruth’s card returned. I doubt that I would have mailed a card had I known of her death.

Family connection would have gone a long way towards removing the embarrassing, to me anyway, question of; Hey! I knew Mike was very ill. Did he die? (Not asked very well but how does one ask such a sad question?)

For a few months off and on after Aunt Ruth’s card returned I questioned my sister and poked around on social media and other ways of searching out information that did not require joining 23andMe. I was looking for connection to Aunt Ruth’s remaining daughters, my cousins.

Although I did spend money with one of those find anybody anywhere services, nothing came of it other than me forgetting to unsignup after the free trial period. Unilateral family connection is tiring and the lopsidedness of it is not satisfying.

Our church gave away these Easter books to hopefully enliven the catholicity of the parishes as they grow smaller. I admit that I am not the best Catholic. I fact I think of myself as a kind of Buddhist catholic who selects much of the spirituality but is uninterested in the rigor and seemingly arbitrary structure. I am still searching. For what I am searching, I am unsure but hope and optimism are more satisfying than longing and despair. Yesterday this little tome revealed itself amid the pile of books near my nesting spot in the living area. I opened it in the middle at random and this heading, “Love Rearranges Our Priorities” said – Read me. Read me!

It starts this way, “Have you ever noticed that when people fall in love, their priorities change? If a close friend falls in love, you will probably notice that she has less time to spend with you because her priority is to spend more time with her love interest. It is not personal. It is natural and normal. Why? Love rearranges our priorities. And our priorities reveal who and what we love.” The rest of the paragraphs wander off and talk about more churchy ideas but this first paragraph describes the whole lesson – love arranges our priorities.

I think the disconnectedness I feel is more aptly described as love’s focus is forward toward new connections. My priority is my new connection with Debbie. (The physics metaphor is – for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.) For every new connection there is a mostly equal disconnection. Or that is my newly philosophized personal canon. The rest of that thought is the mostly equal disconnection is unknown when the new connection is established. (I will need some time to wade though where those thoughts are taking me.)

Connections and interconnections within and without family groups are complicated. They are both weak and strong, sweet and savory, smooth and bumpy, happy and sad, multifaceted and lopsided. There is an odd disconnectedness feeling that I feel with Cheryl’s family. I feel a strong connectedness to my sister as we are the last of our core group. We are all very different in our abilities to connect and maintain those connections. I feel a strong connectedness with Debbie so much so that I ask her questions about her kiddos and her day and how she feels about this, what does she think about that. I have even reached out directly to her daughter (who is dealing with a never ending undiagnosable malady) for an update. That is either nosy or connection – the jury is still out.

Personal connection is not replaced by digital connection.

Looking forward and glancing in the rear view mirror is something I do consistently when I am riding my bicycle down the trail. It is or should be a metaphor for connecting down the trail of life.

Carpe Diem.

Gilgamesh

Posted by

1

Various lines left from the past for us to understand today.

Reading the editor’s notes in poetry magazine, I noted that she made reference to Gilgamesh. In my technical education I was not exposed much if at all old and ancient writings. This fact became apparent to me when I walked into take the MAT test cold while I was working on my M Ed. Over the past twenty years or so if someone made reference to some old work or an author with which or whom I was unfamiliar, my inclination is to find that work or another work by the same author to familiarize myself with the style.

So it is with Gilgamesh. I found a volume on Amazon.

“The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.”

This lesson (take away) from the story of Gilgamesh has been translated from a Babylonian clay tablet that was carved 900ish years BCE. This is I think the earliest known discussion of the death of common sense.

Reading about Gilgamesh who is two thirds god and one third man running around chasing down Enkidu who was living the good life like Tarzan or the roman twins brought to light the quoted comment from the gods shown above.

It is a cobbled up story about how Enkidu came to be. As it turns out, Gilgamesh was a stinker running around grabbing stuff even if he did not need it. That activity tends to use up all your kudos and the people get grumpy about it. Common folk started looking for a way to get rid of Gilgamesh so they can be in peace. They – the people – were feeling jilted and put upon. (Good king Wenceslas has run amok.) They talked to their god(s) who then talked to another group of designer gods who got the creator god on the phone. She, her name is Aruru, was told by the design team, you messed that up (Gilgamesh) so fix it.

Aruru invented Enkidu so that Gilgamesh (Gil) would have a playmate and leave the regular folks out of it. To make it seem plausible Gil had to do more conquerings. (We do a similar thing today. If you get assigned a drug that has (a) crappy side effect(s) there is also a drug to treat the side effect(s).) The story goes on to tell about various conquerings after Gilgamesh and Enkidu become mates and spend time doing the random conquerings. They do not spend much time thinking about the consequences of their conquerings. Eventually stuff turns to crap because the infrastructure is not being maintained. The flood happens. Etc.

The book of Genesis seems to be the same story with a few more begats in it and a little more specificity instead of leaving the story of everything up to a few random gods. The term god means starter person. In the beginning there had to have been starter people. Those early folks who through random chance developed the fire gene.

Once they developed fire, the world went rapidly crazy from there. Food tasted better. Drinks were better. Try making whiskey with cold water. Or try making bread without an oven. Smelting metals from ore is especially hard to do without fire, a really hot one. Wars became easier to fight with spears and swords and knives and arrows. It was easier to hunt when the war was on pause. Better longer lasting food led to affluence which led to opulence which led to pondering the universe and the why of it all. Steam was invented and that got rid of that annoying job of rowing and rigging the sails when not rowing. On and on it goes.

These days there is AI (arbitrary innocence, automated ignorance, artificial intelligence, you pick) which allegedly will either save us or kill us all and the grumpy folks are talking (still) to the gods. Where is Aruru?

The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.

Throughout man’s existence the smart money has been on the guys who looked at all sides of some action before leaping into it with both feet. Fate in this instance is random happenstance. Planning is important. Even with all the planning fate can jump up and bite you in the left cheek while you are moving by it.

Maybe it is true. Stories must be told and retold over and over and again and again.

Carpe Diem.

Cherry Tomatoes

Posted by

0

I came home last night with no more thoughts or inspiration other than remembering to put out the trash for the early morning pickup. Attached to the kitchen door of my condo was this ziplock bag of goodies fresh from our garden. My neighbor, Joe, had harvested our first two cherry tomatoes. (He kept one. Drat, But it is an endeavor for which he provides most if not all of the effort, so I celebrate that with him.)

I left it on the kitchen counter, put out the trash, read about Gilgamesh for awhile and went to bed. I had visited earlier with my son and my daughter-in-law and grandson Luke. I had not seen or talked to Luke for some time. (He is a long haul truck driver and spends a lot of time on the road.) Big gaps in time enable me to see how he has matured. Cruising the countryside in a big rig takes him to other places with new experiences. He is an intelligent mature man comfortable in his own skin. And I slept well.

I found this mature little tomato back this morning and celebrated its existence. I asked Copilot – a fun thingy on this laptop – to write an ode to this lowly tomato. It gave me this:

Ah, noble tomato, blushing on the vine,  
First jewel of summer, how proudly you shine!  
You rise from earth with unassuming grace,  
Green shoulders sun-kissed, red with pride of place.  

Not yet a bushel, just one brave lone flame,  
The garden’s herald, whispered in by rain.  
A promise in pulp, in seeds tightly curled,  
You carry the sun and scent of the world.  

Your skin so taut, like hope held in suspense—  
We wait for your fall with mouths, not pretense.  
For in your flesh lives warmth, both sweet and tart,  
A tangy hymn sung straight to the heart.  

Let poets chase roses that bloom and fade,  
I toast you instead, in salad or braid—  
Sliced on warm bread with salt like a spell,  
You speak in flavors no words dare to tell.  

So here’s to you, red comet on the stem,  
First of your kind, a botanical gem.  
The season begins when you ripen bold—  
A lowly fruit, and a miracle told.

Kind of corny. This sounds a little like Willy Shakesperson with his panties in a wad. But Copilot cannot understand whether it is talking about a fruit or a girl friend. It picked both. It swings both ways.

I decided to celebrate the tomatoes existence with breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and skillet potatoes which is the reason – I am certain of this – why God added fat to bacon. Potatoes and onions are much better fried up in the leftover bacon fat.

I know. I hear you. I am a very religious guy when it comes to observations like these. We all know that the good things come from God. He sent those animals with cloven hooves here to cook the potatoes. (Potatoes fried in beef tallow are pretty good also.) Amen to that!

I wrote a text to my neighbor, Joe, thanking him. I also reported that there only enough for a garnish,

Burp. Sorry.

Carpe (well fed) Diem.

Gnats

Posted by

0

A gnat is any of several species of small flying insects that magically appear in the late spring and stick around until late autumn. Here and there they show up without seemingly any help from anyone. It is truly magical. Tiny life, once not here and then here.

I thought of this while waiting for the Nespresso to complete this morning. I was watching one of God’s creatures hop across the kitchen counter nearby as my cup was filling. To be honest, I was focused on whether it was a gnat or one of the floaters that occasionally appear in my vision. Gnat it was.

Imagine the world we live in from the view of the gnat. Big does not begin to describe it.

Imagine your universe … big does not…

This is the kind of thought experiment that I have when I allow myself to do it. We are all here doing the same thing. – Eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Why do we spend so much time getting in front of each other? If the hope was I would answer this question so that it could be rebutted with opulent dismissiveness, I cannot. I cannot answer why many are willing to advance unwanted or unasked for interference. I cannot answer why we cannot merely be present for each other.

Gnat is a term that means small fly. There are many species of tiny insects that are referred to as gnats in a general sense. Gnat is a generic term. Gnat is a stereotypical term. Stereotypes are assessments of a small group and extension of those assumptions to a larger group with a bias toward that larger group. The bias often comes from a sense of envy.

In the New Testament there is a story about an owner of an olive grove who hires day labor several times a day to pick his olives. At the end of the day the guys who worked all day became grumpy that they were not paid more than the guys that had only picked olives for a couple hours. They expected their deal to change simply because the olive grove owner was generous to the late comers. The early group was envious of the late comers good fortune.

Envy is a powerful force in life. Envy is all mental. The guys who worked all day could have celebrated the two hour workers’ good fortune instead of mourning their own perceived misfortune but they did not. They chose to be grumpy. The olive grove owner admonished them for their grumpiness.

Everywhere in the world people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same thing – eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Seemingly not recognizing that our fellow people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same. Recognizing that we are all doing the same thing in life brings peace to the soul. Some would call that woke, a slang term that intends to demean the idea of compassion for our fellow man. Peace only comes with the awareness of the needs of others.

We are all human on Earth with the same needs.

We are all gnats or smaller in the universe. Our needs do not change nor do others.

Carpe Diem.

Ted Lasso

Posted by

0

I really do hate admitting that Debbie is right. It is a feeling that I do not think is unique to her. I felt the same towards Cheryl. It seems a man thing to me.

She told me that I would like Ted Lasso. I think I was resistant on principle. It had little to do with the actual show. Just the fact that she said you are going to like it, made me resistant. She is right. Streaming it is better because I can keep watching episodes while doing less interesting duties such as laundry.

When Cheryl was still alive and home with me I tended to bury my day with a lot of chores that come with taking care of a person with ill health. Now that it is just me those chores are easy to ignore for longer. There are less of them. That is another fact of me, myself and I. There are some days when I have less get up and go, less vim and vigor, less energy.

Ted Lasso reminds me of Mom and her “Monday, bloody Monday” attitude about the first christian working day in the week. His wild enthusiasm starting the morning is incredible to those around him. He can be too much and at the same time infectious. He also does not allow others to help him. It is an infectious show. Ted is able to help and influence all of those around him.

But that is not the story here. Ted Lasso is a metaphor for us all. In his world there is happiness, sadness, love revenge, vindictiveness, ego, ambivalence, scurrilousness maybe a little unscrupulousness tossed in to balance the spices. About a year ago, a few months after Cheryl’s soul left her body, I was feeling a little better. I bought a new bike and started riding it in earnest. It got me out of the condo and into the sunshine. I spent 3 – 4 days a week riding the Little Miami Trail. I put my bike on the back of the car and kept it there. In my mind maybe a trail would pop up and I would ride it. That “go ride at a moments notice” became my occupation and passion. It took over the emptiness I felt from Cheryl’s moving on.

In October of last year I met a woman because of a mutual acquaintance with a friend from church. Lately we have been having an off-the-wall discussion about what to call our relationship. My cousin likes the term Life Partner which although descriptive is less so in our case. Labels are interesting in their implications.

This Spring and almost summer season is not cooperating weather-wise and I have not ridden as much as I would like. So, I have filled several empty hours thinking about Debbie and where we are going. It is a recurring thought theme. That particular thought thread strings my thoughts into what is my purpose? I imagine most older adults think about this issue.

I do not spend much time with it. Sitting here at my desk writing, there is a copy of Cheryl’s picture that was published in the newspaper as a part of news of our engagement. She is a beautiful young woman in that picture. The photographer did a great job of posing and lighting her face.

I wonder how she is doing. Ted Lasso reminds me that there are somethings that cannot be known.

Carpe Diem.

Men Don’t Like Questions

Posted by

1

Men Do Not Like Questions and Women Need Reassurance

That is a tag line that provokes thought. Debbie said that to me in a conversation we were having about I do not know what. It struck me as so true to stereotype I stopped to write it down in my notes app on my phone.

I observed the stereotype at work in an extra class I taught this spring at the community college. A logistics difficulty with the school caused me to take over a class that had been started by another instructor.

Young men in their all knowing way can plunge off into the abyss of I don’t need any help/I got this. In this case a little extra knowledge is helpful. They were building a control panel for the semester project. For one the magic smoke leaked out of a component. This is never good in electrical work. The young women, there were three, were unsure of their abilities and were more cautious. One told me one day, “I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing.”

I wrote to her at the end of the class my thoughts about her performance in the lab project portion of class. I do this for all of my students. I have done this since my student teaching days. I think of teaching and instructing as guiding the students. Lecture implies an all knowing authoritative relationship. I do not have that style. I think it helps me to get to know and understand their abilities and how I can guide and help them succeed. Along the way I make notes about them in the hope of aiding the journey.

To Simara: I recognize that my taking over the course midstream was disruptive to you. In my short time with you and the rest of the class I took the time to observe a few things about each of you. I am writing this to you to report those observations and offer some unsolicited advice. I detect that you are unsure about many things both in this class and around you in life. That observation may be an incorrect one as I have only known you for a short time. And yet you were not afraid to admit it as you said, “I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing.” That admission is a bold thought and shows an intelligence beyond your years. The important thing is that you asked for help. You may not understand how well that ability will serve you through life but it is a very useful ability to ask for help. Not everyone can do that. Often they are worried about looking stupid and unknowledgeable.

The whole idea of this class is to gain some practical hands on experience, so at the end of our time together I wrote to everyone to tell them what I thought of the class as a whole and to thank them for the smooth transition. They gave me the impression that the previous instructor did not like to answer questions. That simple fact would explain why they were so tentative about asking for information about the project they were working on. And for the project they were working on, they had incomplete information.

This experience was not unlike several business experiences in which I was tossed into a project that was going awry with the wish of, see if you can fix it. Sometimes that means starting over midstream rapidly and using as much of the existing disaster as possible. Sometimes it means finding a new piece of paper and resharpening the pencil. I failed one young man, Sam, who raced ahead not knowing he had incomplete information.

Not only do men not like questions but they do not like asking questions. Women on the other hand ask lots of questions. Follow up questions, many follow up questions help to define the edges of the path to be taken. The path becomes clearer as the follow ups serve to sweep the leaves off the pavement.

Debbie does this to me. My usual response is, “Hmmmm…” while I am stalling for time to answer whatever she asked. Sometimes our banter wanders off into the weeds while I am thinking about what I am thinking about. (It is another comment of hers, “you are always thinking about what you are thinking about.”) She is right. I am not a spontaneous answer-er. I have several stall techniques.

She asks hard questions sometimes, often actually. Her questions are often feeling questions. The answers to which are very often hard to put into words. I will see her today. I look forward to our long conversations about life. She helps me to see how bright and cheery the world is even though Cheryl is not in it. For that I will be forever grateful.

Carpe Diem.

Text Banter

Posted by

1

All the puzzles were easy to do for me. Is it a good sign that I was able to do both the Wordle and Connections in the NY Times and solve them both rapidly? Some mornings my brain is alert and my favorite puzzles are easily solved. They are almost trivial.

Is that because I will be with Debbie today? Both of us have Friday off. We have a couple of activities planned. My heart is happy. My brain is anxious for our bantering conversation.

A typical morning text string from a few days ago:

You up?

Me, Of course but you are not sleeping late… (smiley face)Ÿ˜

Me, Happy Wednesday

Asleep before 10 so woke up by 6. Happy Wednesday ! 82 degrees today ! 15 percent chance if rain now. Very windy tho

Oops 50 percent

Me, Yep. Gayle is wearing red and black too

Me, Lonnie lost Wisconsin

Gayle? Weather looks bad tonight. Good to hear about Wisconsin . Lonnie needs to learn how to lose. He’s like a spoiled 5yr. old.

Me, BMWs will be more expensive tomorrow

Darn I’ll get mine today then.

Me, (smiley face)Ÿ˜Š

Wanna come?

Me, In general? Or to get a beemer?

100 percent knew you’d say that. Yes and yes

Me, You are incorrigible (smiley face)Ÿ

Thank you

Me, Hmmmm….

Me, Tuff schedule today?

Right? Lol. Only 6 today thank goodness.

Me, AustedoXR comes with a free coffee mug. It’s orange though.

Is that a bmw?

Should come with a free trip

Me, How come Donnie has so many blond haired women around him.

Me, Does no one else notice stuff like this?

Me, XR is some kind of drug for some thing.

Few people notice what you do.

Men in power frequently want blondes with big breasts around them. Just sayin

Me, I think Tara only has 3 pairs of shoes

Now I like her more.

Me, Hmmm… now I have to focus on tit’s. Hard to see past the podiums.

Where there’s a will there’s a way

Me, Eureka! A side view of whatshername reveals nice boobs. How do you know these things? Are you psychic?

You’re welcome. Yes I am psychic

Me, Huh. I imagine that can be burdensome on some days.

Kids at office say that too. Haha. they think I can read their minds. Yes I would actually not want to be psychic.

How’d you sleep?

Me, Pretty swell. I only woke up twice. I’m unwoke today.

Me, Wordle

Me, (picture of the puzzle)

Me, Going to look for more coffee

Good. And you are the opposite of unwoke. What’s the orange mean?

Me, (picture of the puzzle)

Me, S out of position

Did you get it?

Me, Yep… moving on to Connections

Well let me know if you need help. Haha

It is a common back and forth us and I love it. We are a little smartypants and a little flirty. It makes me laugh out loud.

Carpe Diem

Kilo 8 Kilo Bravo Kilo

Posted by

5

Yesterday as I spent time paying bills electronically a conformation code from my bank began with KBK. It made me think about my older and only brother.

When I was much much younger, fourteen to be precise, I took all the testing and successfully received an amateur radio license. My brother Bill had achieved that many years prior. His call sign was K8KBK or as he often said, and I can still hear his voice, kilo number eight kilo bravo kilo. Dad was also a ham radio operator. His call sign was K8JZA. With my success I became WA8PRQ.

It is interesting to me how earlier experiences in life influence situations later in life. Early analog radio communication was often full of scratchy static and in order to clarify that communication a mnemonic was added after the original series of letters.

“Hello, CQ, Hello CQ, this is K-8-K-B-K, kilo number eight, kilo, bravo, kilo.” This is a request for contact of a non-emergency nature. CQ is Morse code shorthand for: calling all stations that are able to hear me. Ham radio folks just like to yak a lot. I used to have a key much like the picture. I could not get proficient with the dual key. We had one but I did not like it. I could do about 15 words a minute with this J38 style. Those days are other memories.

To this day, if I see WTF in a text message, in my head, I translate that to Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Other leftovers from my Morse code days include TNX for thanks. Text messages from young people are often full of cryptic hieroglyphic-like emoticons and pictures of vegetables. The old Egyptians would be proud.

My ham radio days with Dad appeared in my head last summer while wandering through my time without Cheryl and wondering what to do with my time. I thought to develop old interests and maybe make new friends. Something that I was looking at caused the Facebook lunacy checker to send me a teaser about the American Radio Relay League (ARRL) and memories from teenagerhood came flooding into my head about QSL cards, Field Days, portable communications, hidden transmitter hunts and the Oh-Ky-In clubhouse which is now part of the I-275 loop around Cincinnati.

The memories are numerous and fond. I got excited and sent them money to get the current books to study up get a license back which made me wonder if I could get my original call sign back. I have not found that out, yet. When the books turned up a week or so later, I wondered what I was thinking about when I ordered them.

Life is like that when your anchor gets disconnected from the chain as mine was. The summer moved on and so did I. The books look good on the shelf next to other technical references of greater but passing interest. Once an engineer, always an engineer.

Cheryl was not interested in any of that but she was if I was. These days I write and read and read and write and wonder if I will ever get certain students to understand certain engineering topics and translate a control diagram into a physical circuit (that works.) I have over time morphed into an instructor at a community college near me. It has become over time either more of an interest or less of an interest depending upon which day. Life is full of ups and downs.

I think I have found a new anchor, a person to be with, a listener, a friend, a place to feel comfortable and home.

We read and I write and we text and we talk. She teaches me the meaning of various glyphs (emojis). She admonishes me for the incorrect use of other glyphs. We have fun and enjoy each other’s company.

I think I have mentioned that before in other posts here.

I have fond memories of my earlier days. It has taken this past year and a few strategic moves and removals for me to mainly think about the great times in my life.

Reminders of recent sad times are still here and there. They are just not in the front row any longer.

Carpe Diem.

Holy Cow It is March 30th

Posted by

0

And it is soon to be March31st.

Debbie, et al. is stuck in the great state of spring break. Allegiant air has disappointed them by changing days for their return flight. Oh well, that is part of the excitement of breaking. She went there with two kids and three grand kids. She is still there.

The universal flight constant was out of alignment with their travel plans.

There are many of these constants constantly cramping various plans humans make for themselves.

A cynical comment is “Man plans. God laughs.” It has several variations but always ends with god laughs. I find it disappointing to believe in a creator who laughs at you. I much prefer a creator who laughs with you.

The universe did not laugh at us when Cheryl and I imagined our future full of travel and good times. A future that was full of family and mirth. A trip hoped for and planned for to Alaska had a little rain and funny towel sculptures. Life had birthday parties and grand kids graduations, dance competitions and valedictorians, surprise visits. We laughed together. We had fun together. Laughed with.

The universe has a vision. Details are in the pixels. Finite divisions of the view are defined by various constants.

Many, many years ago I took a couple photography classes. One of the things we talked about was how color images and black & white images are printed. Tiny little dots (pixels) are used to do this. Our own eyes do this to convey information to the brain and it constructs a view of the world which is remarkably uniform and complete. Our brains are complex and rapid computers. The details are in the pixels but the brain extrapolates that discrete information into our view of the world.

We have vision. We should stay focused on the view. Universal constants realign with the vision. And the universe although unraveling, is doing so as it will.

Debbie et al. will be home soon. The flight tracker app shows her little airplane in the air over the gee in Georgia. The universe is laughing (maybe giggling is a better word) with me. She will be home soon.

Carpe Diem.