Ah, Margaret (Our Margaret.)

Bridge Over Troubled Water

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_a46WJ1viA

Dear Margaret:  One thing I know, and this I know, you see:  If you, yourself, we shouldn’t blame, then AT&T must bear the shame—anyone else, but me. 

On reading your name in the Obits last week, I was both saddened and stunned.  How long had it been since I drove to your house and sat down with you to discuss your relationship with my wife and me?  Not all that long, I think, and one thing that I must say is there is nothing but sadness in my heart for your passing, regardless. 

The last thing I remember saying was that that old “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just call” line which, of course, I meant, sincerely, quite sincerely.  When you told my wife you were ending your relations with her, neither she nor I knew why.  When you and I talked, I understood your frustration in thinking she did not want to work with you from time to time on various things of concern.  As I said then, perhaps it was how her phone might have cut you off (and without your knowledge, at that,) while you were leaving her a message you felt she needed to hear.  One strike, AT&T, one strike indeed.

Possibly, though, another problem was when I went to their (AT&T’s) local office to get some help with their equipment and was told there was no way they could transfer my phone list from my old tried but true piece of their technology to the new phone I was buying to replace it (it would no longer charge it’s battery.)  They could not access my phone list?  On their SIM card?  Sounds like a lack of training of their personnel to me (what else could it be?)  Not Me—Not ME!!!  Strike two, AT&T, strike two, indeed. 

And now, here I read your name in that little front page highlighted section of my AikenStandard, in its front page Obits.  WHY, I cry?  And at your service, two days from that, again, WHY, I cry? 

You were a sweet lady, my dear.  There is no way else I can say this.  You should be with us yet, and you aren’t.  Was it something I could have done, dear heart? 

And now, I am sure, you might have called, and I would not have recognized you as the caller.  (I would have called you back in an instant.)  Why?  Oh, God, Why?  STRIKE THREE, AT&T, STRIKE Three.  Damn. 

AT&T does a lot of good, and for a lot of people. In this case, though, they did not.  In this case, they failed, and failed miserably.  Sorry for that Dear Margaret.  Sorry for that.

At least your suffering is over.  Maybe that is AT&T’s one saving grace.  Maybe.  Damn.

Data, Data--what to do with the Data?

Data, Data—what to do with the Data?

Theodor Seuss Geisel, known to most of us as Dr. Seuss, was an active author when my children were for real "children," and his "My Book about ME" was available to them when they were of the age, so to speak.  Unfortunately their dad had not discovered his historical bent at that time, something that would have to wait until he grew much older and began writing his own book about me, i.e., his autobiography (see Amazon for details,) in 2016 or so, and because of this any writing that may have occurred as a result of the Seuss book’s influence on the children was not realized for the importance that it may have had at the time and was not saved for that Geddes history that has yet to be written.  This is an error that need not be made in perpetuity, though, and this brief essay will definitely be passed on to the Geddes clan for their use (or not) as the case may be.  I hope they “get the hint,” and can only say I wish the hint had been passed down earlier (say, to ME?) in this family’s history.

That being said, what do you suppose today’s “Morningbrain” entry might consist of?  Well, we will not go into the subject to the depth that I hope will be my wont in the future.  I will simply state the obvious, that such work can and should be preserved for the family of the future.  And how might this be done?

Well, today’s technology leaves several options, some more durable than others.  In this case, today, I am typing on my trusty HP laptop, which laptop has recently been pronounced (by HP) as being in danger of lacking the support of its parent company should problems develop in the future.  Why is this, you say?  Well, technology waits for no man and what was a good thing ten years ago, or so, no longer is that sustainable.  Newer equipment is both faster, and able to store much more than this old standby will be able to do and the newer equipment is still not all that much more expensive than was what I am typing on today.  Should I upgrade?  Well, probably. 

In the mean time, what are my options?  Well, the first thing to do is to save what I already have created and, while there are a number of options here, some are probably better than others. 

We have the paper option, print out what we want to save and keep the material secured somewhere for those of the future to find.  Now, if you have taken a few thousand pix in the recent past, you will probably not want to exercise this method of data maintenance.  Sure, it may make sense for some things, that autobiography, for instance, but all those pictures?  I think not.

Then there is the thumb drive option.  Thumb drives and other data storage devices are available, and they seem to be getting less expensive as time wears on.  The only problem is one of durability.  It seems the magnetic material that is used to save the data has a bit of a longevity problem itself.  What is here today, may not be here tomorrow, so to speak.  Probably another idea that is not in our best long-term interests.

Then there is the cloud.  While the cloud may provide a long term solution to data storage, it depends on others to the extent that costs could go up, even multiply, as time goes on.  It also may depend on things like our political parties.  Do we really want to save our thoughts, hopes, and dreams in a place that may or may not be available in the future?  What might happen if our “leaders” get us involved big time in a war? 

Then, again, take another angle on this:  Look at prescription prices, for example.  What used to seem reasonable, cost wise, today is becoming someone else’s way to part you and large portions of your money, if, that is, you want to stay alive.  For my money, that cloud is not a very good idea. 

Finally, for today’s purpose, I will go to some good old fashioned plastic storage.  Ah,yes, data discs! The plastic is relatively durable (it can be protected using fireproof boxes in the home) and the data itself, once burned into the plastic with our friendly home disc creation devices (and yes, my old HP laptop has its own attached device, complete with laser, that should work just fine.)  Well, there we have it.  Data discs are my method of choice for my data and pix.  Now, the only thing I have to do is review file after file and pic after pic to determine which will be saved.  Quite a job for me.  For you?  Just do it.  Your family will appreciate your work for years to come, I suspect.  And you will sleep easier knowing your work, while not currently appreciated as you might like, will, at least, be available to those minions of the future who may call you granddad, or the granddad of my granddad, or….  Well, you get the picture.  (I hope.)

We’ve come a long way from that dah-di-dah-dah etc, I learned as a boy scout.  Good or bad, that’s just the way things are.

SVGeddes; 2018-10-16

What do I do with all this data? Again?

What do I do with all this damned data?

Well, I awoke, as per plan, if not per outright schedule, fresh as a daisy at 3:50 this morning and so, as is my wont, up, up, and away I flew from my bedroom to the kitchen to see what I might find.  And what was that.  The kitchen had not changed one iota from what It had been when I crawled into bed late last night barely able to keep my eyes open, not even trying to stay up to see what Stephen Colbert might have come up with about our one and only Great Guy of the moment.  And I like Colbert’s comments.  He is one of the best things I can think of when I am forced to think about the Great Guy we now have as newsmaker in chief, President of all he surveys, SOB extraordinaire, Donald (smell something?) Trump.  Yes, it is Colbert I await each night to see to give me strength to go on.  Great.

Maybe the North Koreans have something.  Their leader, Kim Ill Something, inherited his position, as do most Kings, from his Father, who, like most fathers, finally died and left things awash and akimbo for those left behind to deal with.  And deal with it Kim Ill had done, putting together a nuclear explode and deliver plan that has given all, including our SOB extraordinaire, something to think about and deal with.  Good for him, I think, he could use a little Pt 239 or something up his whazoo for a night or so, and then he would be just where he deserves to be.  In the mean time, the rest of humanity gets to sit back and watch the evening news to see what he and our SOB (well, you get the picture) as they play out their roles on the world stage might have recently done and, hopefully, that something would not be anything at all that would hurt anyone at all.  What a life.  Mine or theirs, you say, well, take your pick.  From first breath to last, we all have our own missions—just to extend that little bit of life for as long as we might to do what? 

Well, if extension is all there is, I guess you and I are no better or worse than these two piece of guano fellows or their least of brethren next-door neighbors digging through some junkyard trying to find their own nightly dinner.  The President and the Pauper?  Try “The Prince and the Pauper” and you just may have something.

Take a breath, friend.  It just could be your last (depending on the actions of two fools, that is.)

Smiling yet?  Good grief. 

Now, as to that data, well, there will be another night, and another morning, or so we all hope.  The data, dying its slow death in computerized sticks, can wait.  No one will really give a damn at all.  (And, yes, that data will die if left only in those sticks.  Maybe we should all try putting it on disks.  Once burned in there, it could last for centuries.)

P.T.Barnum?

P.T. Barnum, uh, No! No!

Pootin and Tramp, ain’t they a pair?

Runnin’ round, hand in hand, everywhere!

One thing’s for certain, you surely know,

They’re both real sweeties when they do-si-do!

Dancing part-ners, that’s what they are—

But Tramp don’t drink, and he’s far from the bar,

And even at that, they’re a sweetheart pair,

One New York suckah and his Russian Bear.

Quite a life, we think, they could surely have led,

So long as the one respects the other’s bed...

(Or maybe we’re wrong here, just don’t know--)

The Russkie’s got a wife?  (Or maybe a beau!)

In any case it’s rumored that one of them says

He has goods on the other from a Russian bed,

And all will be well so long as both play the game

And harlots in Russia will never be the same.

Pootin and Tramp, ain’t they a pair?

Runnin’ round, hand in hand, everywhere!

One thing’s for certain, you surely know,

They’re both real sweeties when they do-si-do!


P.T. Barnum, uh, No! No! (c) 2018 Stephen V. Geddes

Thoughts of an internet dabbler

Thoughts of an internet dabbler

This is really a morningbrain item—one that couldn’t wait till the actual morning for recording.  Fact is, there is a good bit “out there” (a good bit to me, not much to some) that has my name attached and nowhere is there any compilation of those “internet dabblings” that I might go to to find and resurrect my “internet presence.”  Guess this might be a start. 

Let’s see:  First and foremost is “Morningbrain—what keeps me up nights.”  I get there by entering the following into my trusty Hp, and seeing what might be returned.  (And the following is: http://stephenvgeddes.blogspot.com/ , comma not included, )  Add to that a bit of stuff on utube YouTube, to you guys,  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCH_CmO2gnIfn4Rtc32CKcqg , go there to get a bit more.  Once upon a time there was a site called “Examiner.com” where I had over a hundred published short articles, really photojournalism over the internet.  Examiner sold out to some other site (Axis, or something) and that work was mostly lost.  I did save a bit of it, but not the works entirely, losing most of the pictorial accompaniment to the writing.  I do have the basic articles somewhere, though.  Add to the above, various posts on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/steve.geddes.792, and a couple of items for sale over Amazon : https://www.amazon.com/Stephen-V.-Geddes/e/B07F64V892/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 ,

and one start of a site at https://sites.google.com/site/stephenvgeddes/, and quite a bit (to me) is there.   In any case, that’s a start on my web presence at present. 

Guess we all have a web presence:  Suspect we all might benefit from defining just what that presence might consist of.  And, that’s just what I might have tried to generate.  There is much more, of course, on others’ sites—take my talented other half, for instance: https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.w.geddes .  A little bit about me there, I’m sure (as there is more than just a bit about her on mine.  And why not?)

Need more?  Guess it will come with time.  Know it will come in time if we are given it.

Hmmm.  Guess what?  Time does pass, doesn't it, and this post would benefit just a bit from an "update."  Seems good ole blogger only deems it necessary to list fifty posts at a time, so, on reaching that fifty-first posting, I had a personal dilemma.  What to do?  How's Blogger two sound?  Or, my friend, actually the site is:  https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blogger.g?blogID=7408073548485029587#allposts , titled:  Morningbrain--"Deux...," if you please.  Give it a try--not much is changed (same author, same old thoughts, same same, as some would say--in any case, that's my take on my more current travails.)

Steve  12/29/2019

Musings on today's politics

I used to enjoy writing a “letter to the editor” from time to time, but somewhere along the line I lost my taste for that.  I guess today’s political situation just may change a few attitudes, though, not just my attitude towards writing.  And so....

Well, it’s like this, friend:  I am a white man, from parents who were German, on my Mother’s side, and Scotch Irish on my Dad’s.  Now, if you were to want a bit more info on me, I would be able to supply just a bit were I to adopt the naming used by many of our Southern (really Southern) neighbors.  But that could give the criminal element just a bit much, so I won't go there.  Aside from that, I am a scientist, which I point out to remind all that regardless of our more recent heredities, we all remain creatures that are all “out of Africa.”  Think the original Adam and Eve were white?  Your right, I guess.  Still, here I am, born in the South, raised in the South, living in South Carolina, and I tell you, friend, while I am and have been an independent from the beginning of my political life, I am now considering joining with the Democratic party to work for that party and help it in its attempts to win in South Carolina in the upcoming election and in the election of 2020.  And, even though you may find some people I know who will tell you “he’s just an outsider at heart who wants you to think he knows something you ought to consider while he is, of course, wrong in every way,” yes, even though there are some out there who would say this about me and others like me, I feel the following needs to be said, and I hope everyone might give these thoughts some consideration in spite of the strength of that particular bone they may have in their heads that overwhelms any attempt they may make to give the least bit of realistic consideration to anything that may go counter to what they have believed for, say, since Trump was elected as well as, perhaps, for a few more years before that.

And, to elaborate just a bit more, while I would undoubtedly disagree with those who would criticize my current political thinking, and while I would still fight (as I once was privileged so to do, thanks to an angry draft) for their right to criticize me at any time for my thoughts and wishes in the matter of what needs to be done in South Carolina, and, yes, in America in general, I must say, while they probably will not find much to agree with here, it’s just because they and their minds are so steeped in the past and rooted in the current across the board Republicanism of our state that they refuse to give one iota of consideration to anything anyone might say that could be considered critical of that kind of thinking, especially after having read the beginning of this “letter.”

When I was in High School, I was part of a South Carolina that was part of the solid “Democratic South” that had been in charge in the South for years and years.  It wasn’t until Strom Thurmond made his decision to change parties in 1964, stating the Democratic party had grown away from him and his thinking to the extent that he really had no choice but to change parties, that things began to change.  Most would say Strom was right to do what he did.  As also, so I believe, would be any other politician doing this today, but, of course, that politician would have to go in the opposite direction than did our venerated Strom. 

You see, today our political situation is the exact opposite of what Strom found in 1964.  Today it’s the Republican party that has roamed away from its roots and become the staid party of choice in South Carolina, doing all sorts of nothing for years to maintain our roads, our state parks, our public utilities, and all sorts of other things that, quite simply, required funding over and above that which was provided after Strom made his move and others throughout the South followed.  “Ah’ve nevah in my whole cahreah voted for a tax increase” was how one politician put it, suspecting (rightly) that his constituency would find this to be just one more reason to return him to office at the next regularly scheduled election.  (And return him they did.) 

And now, what do you suppose the name of the game might be?  Well, for one thing, there is that tax increase found at our gasoline pumps.  That’s right, a tax increase, one that our Republican controlled legislature approved sometime about a year ago, or so, one that is currently going into effect.  This tax increase is being used to fund construction on our highways and bridges as we speak, something that just might give those current legislators something to brag about (not the tax increase, mind you, just the construction) in advance of our next general election.  “See how we’re improving our state’s transportation system?  Do you think the Democrats would be doing this?” is what we might expect to hear, wouldn’t you think?

How many others might come to the conclusion along with me that would allow them to move in opposition to the current majority in our legislature?  Also to consider is how many of that majority might be thinking there just might be something questionable about that “base” that is considered to be supportive of President Trump in all things.  This President may be on a path that would change our mostly bicameral legislature into a more viable tricameral grouping (if there is such a thing) that would be more representative of those in the electorate, some of whom might give up their “independent” status and join some Republicans and some Democrats to form a third party—one that might even become controlling in future elections.  Would this be a good thing?  You be the judge. 

And so it goes.  What is needed now is for someone, some strong leader in our legislature, to consider being the Strom of our era and allow a migration from the Republican party to the Democratic or, even better, to that middle party suggested here sometime in the near future.  Could this happen, my friend?  Perhaps.  And then what?

It’s said that politics breeds strange bedfellows.  Hang onto your hats, folks:  With RINO Trump at the helm in Washington, breeding season could be just around the corner.

Stephen V. Geddes

Aiken

After the fire, Renewal!

4:00?  Well, guess that’s about right.  Can’t complain too much—glad to be up and able to do a bit of writing.  Apartment quiet, in any case, and almost no noise coming off of the street.  Good.

Brain had me lying in bed thinking for about 30 minutes before I got up.  Never can seem to remember those thoughts after getting up, though.  Maybe one, though, the one connected with the house fire.  And that is, the very next time I find myself walking away from a burning house I will immediately start a journal to chronicle what I would like to say, which is: What Happens Next! 

To start with, that journal will discuss the firefighters and their work.  It will then move on to the need for and finding temporary quarters.  It will then move on to working with the insurance company and finding a contractor to make the needed repairs, or, as the case may be, to rebuild the house.  Exciting stuff, right?  Well, it would have been if the feeling of having the rug pulled out from under you were not an underlying factor in your life, or, as the case may be (is) in your lives!  As I may have said somewhere before, while we have never had a “why me (us)” thought, the question is still one that may occur and the answer lies in our relation to our higher power and the universe, I guess.  Does the Lord, indeed, have a reason for our survival?  If so, what might that be.  And, considering the vastness of our universe, there is that biblical question, “What is man, that thou art mindful of him?” 

Too much to go into now, I guess.  The next thing for us involves doctors (Jennie’s knee,) the house (which our adjuster insists will be ready by the time he has scheduled us to be out of the apartment on September 30, according to an email I just found,) and the return to the newly restored house and the furnishing of same with newly yet-to-be-acquired furniture.  Considering the timing of this note, we have two months (today is 7/27/2018) to finalize everything and be ready to move --well, no, more precisely to have accomplished that move into our new home.  A lot to do.

Guess the planning for the furniture and the move begins today.  And, since I’ve been up for about an hour and a half now, maybe I just might get a little more sleep before I need to start.  (See how things seem to work out, if you give them time?)

Sheesh!  More on this and everything else later.

A lot of work—exciting, no?

Time? 5:30.

Morning muses

Well, it’s happened again.  I’m up, trip to the loo.  Tobi’s up too (same for him!)  Back indoors, Tobi in bed with Jennie, and me with this.  Honestly, though, first I was back in bed too, but my alzheimer’s brain (still undiagnosed, liking it that way) required this back to the laptop time.   Not something new, of course, just the way things are.

Thinking going in all directions.  Guess that “Great Courses” thing on “Mindfulness” might be helpful (at least that is my hope.)  Will continue with that later, at a more enlightened hour, in any case.  For now, though, I’ll just attempt to revive what was there while I was doing my supine best to just get back to sleep.  Unsuccessfully, you see. 

Well, now on the laptop and first to Facebook.  Some success there—found a way to capture a “friends” list, something that used to be easy but that has succumbed to the Facebook geniuses’ need to keep changing things.  Guess that’s OK (not really,) it’s just what they do to justify their salaries.  Guess they gotta do something.  Wish I could justify a salary like many of them have.  Not likely, though.  Guess many of us are wishing that.  Not likely for any of us, though. 

My old friend and mentor, Bill Landiss, at the Georgia Tech Wesley Foundation, once shared a quote from Kierkegaard, “Life is just one damn thing after another, then there’s death.”  What else is there to say, one might say?  We all are on our ride on our own “Ship of fools,” each of us with a one-way ticket, at that.  Or so I think. 

Maybe that idea that we continue to return for life-times over and over again has some merit, though.  From the earliest of my days, I remember walking down some steps, holding the hand of my mother (or so I think) going with a group of people into what might be a fallout shelter, or a bomb shelter, somewhere in Great Britain, perhaps, during World War Two.  My birth in July of 1944 might support the idea of a direct hit on that bomb shelter, leaving me with an uncertain time in transition to that rebirth in 1944.  Can I be certain this is a memory of a time in an earlier life, or maybe just a memory of some movie I was taken to in the earliest of my years?  Good question, is about the best I can do here.

Moving from that notion to the present, all I can say is the myriad of thoughts I found so unavoidable while lying on my back with Jennie and Tobi to my side have, as usual, dispersed into the blackness of the night, and left me here, awake somewhat, doing what I do in situations like this.  Morningbrain reins.  God Help Me!

(Guess I’ll try again.  Hope I don’t wake either of my bedmates.) 

Not again (yes, again, and again, and...)

Not again (yes, again, and again, and...)
One more time--5:30 or so (man did I get that name right.) Perusing facebook after trying to deal with several problems that I couldn't just roll over and forget about, I found the following:

Regarding Trump the sociopath, Marie Doug provided the following reference on a Jackson Bowman page.

https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2016/07/trump-and-sociopathy/491966/

Marie Doug: Donald Trump is a Brooklyn kid and very New York. If you’ve never lived/loved New Yorkers, you are not likely to recognize the big, bold persona... 
Trump’s not a sociopath, in any case... although if ppl only read hostile media about him, they will get wild ideas about him...

Me: Marie Doug, No, but thanks for the reference. Will read it later--seems things always happen on Sunday mornings around here. Cat is meowing, dog can't seem to have a movement or take a leak, one of the various smoke detectors seems to want attention--do you suppose a few angels were reading Job and decided to try again? With me and my life, and maybe more. Maybe if they got together and came up with a way to get those silly humans to start lobbing nuclear bombs at each other they could have a few eons of peace while the earth returned to pre-human existence and began, via evolution, to come up with some other top predator species. Well, I certainly don't know about that, but, Sunday morning or no, I will have to do something about that damn smoke detector, the cat, and, of course, my poor dog. S**t ! And, yes, I've lived with a few New Yorkers, while in the military inTurkey, and you are right. They can be trying. But they also can be thoughtful and fun to be around. Trump, though? Hope God gets wind of those angels before, as "they" say, all hell breaks loose.

Gotta get some sleep. Jennie watching “In Touch.” Maybe that might help

Disconcerting Dreams

Woke up about 4:30 this morning.  Not unusual, but this time it was due to a dream.  Something must have been bothering me and my subconscious was trying to work on it a bit, giving me a picture show to boot.  Today I am a bit bothered, though, since the only thing I remember was some short, fat guy indicating he planned to kill some more people, and then turning his back on me to go do it, and me standing there with a pistol in my hand.  Did I kill him?  Don’t know—I woke up.  Now, I don’t have anything against short people—compared to some people I see from time to time, I am a short guy myself.  And the same may be said about fat people:  All I need to do is ask any doc and I will be told I am probably about 30 pounds overweight, myself.  Maybe my subconscious was telling me what I tell myself about these attributes.  Again, I just don’t know.

One thing I do know is this.  The next time this happens, I will not do a roll-over.  Instead, I will drag my complaining carcass out of my bed, take a few valerian capsules, open up my trusty hp, and try to make some sense out of my remembrance before the valerian begins to kick in. 

Problems in the night.  Sometime the dreams make some sort of sense.  This one was making sense, I guess, until I awoke, remembering just the very last of the clip.

I’ve never shot anyone.  Guess I didn’t want to start last night—dream or no dream.

Donald Trump--should he be worried?

In the past 55 years, the length of time I have been able to vote for the presidency in our national elections, I have, without fail, listened to the candidates, considered all the possibilities, and cast my vote, religiously, as a participant in our most important once-every-four-years national referendum in support of our preeminent democratic republic.  I have done this to affirm my citizenship and my support of this required, if optional, duty all must share in if this country is to remain the great country that our founders intended it to be.

Interestingly enough, my analyses of the candidates have, more often than not, led me to vote for the candidate who was eventually to lose.  Did I have a problem with that?  No, not really, it’s just that I realized early in the game my values did not usually mirror the values of the majority of my fellow Americans.  Is there something wrong with me?  My answer is no, that’s just the way things are.  If Americans can be viewed as part of a bell-shaped curve, half of us will almost always be on one side, while the remainder will be on the other.  America is America, and I love it just the same.  Usually I have found the winner to be someone who cared for my America just as much as did I, even though they might have been the lesser of the two in my initial estimation. 

This time, though, I wonder.  Today’s President is as crude and rude now, as President, as he was as the leader of the World Wrestling Federation and he uses his background in his dealings with others as if they all were WWF aficionados in love with their undisputed champion, their leader, the WWF’s owner and final arbiter, Donald Trump. 

Does this give me any concern for the future?  Well,  what do you think?

If I were this President, I would worry about my protectors.  Just how long might it be before one of them decides the best thing he or she might do for America would be to end the reign of this person, since he (or she) had the capability and the access and since the worst he might do is spend the rest of his life in jail awaiting a decision by the Supreme Court as to whether or not his action could be considered as the exercise of his power of free speech and that his defense of America warranted that exercise since the Congress was apparently hopelessly incapable of doing its duty to protect the country from this, its first sociopathic President.

Who knows, in years to come, this person, this killer of an American President, just might become the person most Americans would grow to believe was the greatest American Hero. 

A good thing?  You be the judge.  One thing’s for sure:  I would not want to be in Donald Trump’s shoes—not now, not ever.

You?