Many friends and relatives, both online and in real life, are upset, stunned, ashamed, worried, etc. about the results of yesterday's election. Their reactions are extreme in some cases.
One loved one exclaimed, "Don't say to me to relax, take a deep breath, everyone's gonna be alright...":
But we do need to relax; we do need to breathe. However we should not be complacent and assume that everything will work out. We must work hard to tip the scales back toward love and compassion. Treat all humanity with respect and honor. All life is precious.
As an artist / engineer, I can do this. I think you can, too. A difficult challenge has been set before us, and we will "up our game" to meet and exceed this challenge. Be positive. Be a beacon of light and hope. Only then will everything be alright.
Peace and love to you all!
Showing posts with label Future. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Future. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
A Farewell to Doorbells and Knockers
Do you remember how when everyone started to use a cellphone, telephone booths gradually faded out of existence? Will the same happen to doorbells and knockers?
Consider how people call or text when they arrive at their destinations: "im here where r u" Why bother to ring a doorbell or knock?
A few weeks ago I arrived at my daughter's friend's house to pick her up. She was at a gathering that wasn't going well and needed a ride home while the party was still in full swing. I could see a few kids through a gap in the blinds. I don't have a cellphone*, so I rang the doorbell. Nothing. I knocked on the screen door. Still nothing. I knocked on the door frame. Nothing yet again. I Knocked Really Hard on the Door Frame. Finally, I got a head to turn in my direction.
Fortunately they had been viewing a movie on a dinky little laptop. What if they had been watching on a home theater system with surround sound? I'd've had to knock on a neighbor's door and ask to use the phone. Or drive right up to the front door, honk the horn and flash the lights. Or forcibly enter and search among the hooded bodies until I found one that resembled my daughter.
This homeowner's doorbell stopped working. Will she ever notice? Will she ever get it fixed? Why bother? It's obsolete. Besides, the only people who use the doorbell now are strangers: Trick or Treaters, door-to-door salesmen, Jehovah's Witnesses. You're better off not answering.
When was the last time you used a doorbell?
* My brother doesn't have a cellphone, either. But at least I check Facebook once a month or so.
Consider how people call or text when they arrive at their destinations: "im here where r u" Why bother to ring a doorbell or knock?
A few weeks ago I arrived at my daughter's friend's house to pick her up. She was at a gathering that wasn't going well and needed a ride home while the party was still in full swing. I could see a few kids through a gap in the blinds. I don't have a cellphone*, so I rang the doorbell. Nothing. I knocked on the screen door. Still nothing. I knocked on the door frame. Nothing yet again. I Knocked Really Hard on the Door Frame. Finally, I got a head to turn in my direction.
Fortunately they had been viewing a movie on a dinky little laptop. What if they had been watching on a home theater system with surround sound? I'd've had to knock on a neighbor's door and ask to use the phone. Or drive right up to the front door, honk the horn and flash the lights. Or forcibly enter and search among the hooded bodies until I found one that resembled my daughter.
This homeowner's doorbell stopped working. Will she ever notice? Will she ever get it fixed? Why bother? It's obsolete. Besides, the only people who use the doorbell now are strangers: Trick or Treaters, door-to-door salesmen, Jehovah's Witnesses. You're better off not answering.
When was the last time you used a doorbell?
* My brother doesn't have a cellphone, either. But at least I check Facebook once a month or so.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Panic of the Parent of the Soon-To-Be Fledgling
What do you call the shock that new parents experience when they realize their son or daughter will be moving away to college in less than three years? Perhaps the term could be "Panic of the Parent of the Soon-To-Be Fledgling." Hmmm, that's unwieldy.
Whatever it's called, that's what I got. It's like you're hiking briskly on an easy trail, and then you look back and notice zombies lumbering along behind you, in relentless pursuit. You suddenly turn a corner and see a steep, daunting, rocky ascent. The weather turns cold, and dark storm clouds devour the sun. And you suddenly realize that you didn't pack rain gear or a hearty snack.
This particular type of panic, of some fearful thing that looms in the future, is ideal for getting my heart racing -- much better than a jolt of "red-eye" coffee. I can rouse myself out of bed with it in the morning to kick-start the day.
The panic started suddenly over the weekend while we attended our very first college fair with our grade ten daughter. We joked with her to tell the representatives of far off colleges that the primary reason she's interested in their school is because she wants to move as far away as possible from her parents.
Usually panic arises when one is unprepared. That's true in this case, too. We haven't prepared our daughter to be self-sufficient. We have about two-and-a-half years to encourage our daughter to:
But the worst part is we haven't put any money into a college savings account. I've put any extra money into the 401(k) plan that my employer manages. We also didn't count on my wife becoming partly disabled, so not only does my wife not earn money, we spend money on her multiple doctors and medication.
Well, that's the good thing about panic -- it gives you the energy to prepare. And if my wife and I are clever about it, we'll have our daughter soon doing the laundry.
Whatever it's called, that's what I got. It's like you're hiking briskly on an easy trail, and then you look back and notice zombies lumbering along behind you, in relentless pursuit. You suddenly turn a corner and see a steep, daunting, rocky ascent. The weather turns cold, and dark storm clouds devour the sun. And you suddenly realize that you didn't pack rain gear or a hearty snack.
This particular type of panic, of some fearful thing that looms in the future, is ideal for getting my heart racing -- much better than a jolt of "red-eye" coffee. I can rouse myself out of bed with it in the morning to kick-start the day.
The panic started suddenly over the weekend while we attended our very first college fair with our grade ten daughter. We joked with her to tell the representatives of far off colleges that the primary reason she's interested in their school is because she wants to move as far away as possible from her parents.
Usually panic arises when one is unprepared. That's true in this case, too. We haven't prepared our daughter to be self-sufficient. We have about two-and-a-half years to encourage our daughter to:
- Shop for her own groceries, supplies and toiletries.
- Manage her own bank account and finances.
- Do her own laundry.
- Remind her about appointments.
- Eat and drink and take supplements on a fixed schedule.
- Get herself ready for the day.
But the worst part is we haven't put any money into a college savings account. I've put any extra money into the 401(k) plan that my employer manages. We also didn't count on my wife becoming partly disabled, so not only does my wife not earn money, we spend money on her multiple doctors and medication.
Well, that's the good thing about panic -- it gives you the energy to prepare. And if my wife and I are clever about it, we'll have our daughter soon doing the laundry.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Telegraph, The Typewriter and the Answering Machine
Obsolescence. The more quickly new gadgets become available, the more quickly older ones fall by the wayside.
Phone booths, and public telephones in general, are rare, if they still exist at all. Most people today carry a cellphone1 or, more likely, a smartphone. They have no need of a wired telephone. And since these public telephones are expensive to maintain (and somewhat prone to vandalism) they are being removed.
As GPS devices become ubiquitous, folks have less need of road signs that identify street names. So you can expect to see less of them, too. No, they won't be removed the way pay phones are. But they'll fail to be replaced. They will disappear first along the old, smaller roads that only local drivers are likely to drive on, and that have been subjected to construction. It's probably the current norm in Massachusetts to leave out street signs -- at least that's how it seemed while I attempted to drive to the Great East Festival in May2. In fact it was this trip that compelled me to buy a GPS3 -- something I swore I'd never do.
When we discovered that our answering machine was broken recently, I came up with my latest prediction for obsolescence -- the hanky. No, just kidding. I mean the answering machine, of course. Those same folks who sport cellphones are deciding to eliminate their land line phone service. And the fewer folks that have a land line, the fewer that need a telephone and answering machine. But of the two, the answering machine is more dispensable because you can subscribe to your telephone provider's answering service, which you need a telephone to use.
The answering machine that broke was one I bought in 1992. Back then I chose a model that used ordinary audio cassette tapes. That was because someone in the store pointed out that the cassette tape feature would be handy in the event someone were to dictate directions over the phone. I'd be able to just set the answering machine to record the directions, and then take the tape with me in the car and play it back on the car stereo as I drove. Considering how it was the cassette tape mechanism that broke, and that I never played back recordings in the car, perhaps it wasn't the best advice. On the other hand, I still have the first message that my wife left for me just before our very first date.
You can still find answering machines, of course, but the selection isn't what it was 18 years ago. There seem to be few standalone units, and my brief search didn't turn up any that recorded onto tape (not that I wanted one like that). But if you're hoping to be able to find an answering machine in twenty years, well, let's just say you should buy a few extra units now and stash them away.
Then again, answering machines, street signs and even the odd pay phone might always be with us. After all, decades ago many people predicted that computers would bring about the demise of paper. But as we know, we are still drowning in the stuff, especially around election time.
1 Everyone except me, that is.
2 It might've only seemed that way because I put off buying new eyeglasses and couldn't see the signs.
3 Also, we were planning to drive to Washington DC, and I wasn't going to force my wife to pretend to read a map. It actually was helpful, or at least better than having no clue about which direction to take. And in DC, you definitely don't want to wind up on certain roads appearing to be lost.
Phone booths, and public telephones in general, are rare, if they still exist at all. Most people today carry a cellphone1 or, more likely, a smartphone. They have no need of a wired telephone. And since these public telephones are expensive to maintain (and somewhat prone to vandalism) they are being removed.
As GPS devices become ubiquitous, folks have less need of road signs that identify street names. So you can expect to see less of them, too. No, they won't be removed the way pay phones are. But they'll fail to be replaced. They will disappear first along the old, smaller roads that only local drivers are likely to drive on, and that have been subjected to construction. It's probably the current norm in Massachusetts to leave out street signs -- at least that's how it seemed while I attempted to drive to the Great East Festival in May2. In fact it was this trip that compelled me to buy a GPS3 -- something I swore I'd never do.
When we discovered that our answering machine was broken recently, I came up with my latest prediction for obsolescence -- the hanky. No, just kidding. I mean the answering machine, of course. Those same folks who sport cellphones are deciding to eliminate their land line phone service. And the fewer folks that have a land line, the fewer that need a telephone and answering machine. But of the two, the answering machine is more dispensable because you can subscribe to your telephone provider's answering service, which you need a telephone to use.
The answering machine that broke was one I bought in 1992. Back then I chose a model that used ordinary audio cassette tapes. That was because someone in the store pointed out that the cassette tape feature would be handy in the event someone were to dictate directions over the phone. I'd be able to just set the answering machine to record the directions, and then take the tape with me in the car and play it back on the car stereo as I drove. Considering how it was the cassette tape mechanism that broke, and that I never played back recordings in the car, perhaps it wasn't the best advice. On the other hand, I still have the first message that my wife left for me just before our very first date.
You can still find answering machines, of course, but the selection isn't what it was 18 years ago. There seem to be few standalone units, and my brief search didn't turn up any that recorded onto tape (not that I wanted one like that). But if you're hoping to be able to find an answering machine in twenty years, well, let's just say you should buy a few extra units now and stash them away.
Then again, answering machines, street signs and even the odd pay phone might always be with us. After all, decades ago many people predicted that computers would bring about the demise of paper. But as we know, we are still drowning in the stuff, especially around election time.
1 Everyone except me, that is.
2 It might've only seemed that way because I put off buying new eyeglasses and couldn't see the signs.
3 Also, we were planning to drive to Washington DC, and I wasn't going to force my wife to pretend to read a map. It actually was helpful, or at least better than having no clue about which direction to take. And in DC, you definitely don't want to wind up on certain roads appearing to be lost.
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