Tag Archives: life

Everything Falls

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As I age, the constant pull of gravity seems to challenge me more intensely. Standing up has become increasingly difficult, particularly after sitting on the ground. My balance isn’t what it used to be, and I find myself stumbling or losing my footing more frequently than before. These physical changes are a stark reminder of the passage of time and the subtle ways our bodies transform with age.

Lately, I’ve noticed a peculiar phenomenon: whenever I place an object on a completely level surface, it remains stationary momentarily, only to inexplicably tumble to the ground the moment I look away. This occurrence has become increasingly frequent, leaving me to wonder if gravity’s mysterious force is intensifying. While I can’t definitively explain this curious pattern, the repeated incidents have certainly piqued my curiosity.

Gravity seems to conspire against my medication routine, transforming simple pill-taking into a frustrating game of chance. Each tiny tablet appears magnetically drawn to the floor, slipping through my fingers with an uncanny precision. Tonight, I briefly celebrated a small victory when I snatched one pill in mid-descent, only to watch helplessly as two more evaded my grasp, continuing their rebellious tumble toward the ground.

As I attempt to put my medications in my mouth, occasionally a pill slips and clatters to the floor. When this happens, I’m left in a precarious situation, unsure which specific medication has fallen. The stakes are high, especially with critical prescriptions like my blood pressure medication. Missing a dose could potentially lead to serious health risks, including the threat of a stroke. Determined to maintain my health, I meticulously search the floor, carefully crawling and scanning until I locate the dropped pill, ensuring I don’t compromise my medical regimen.

Then, of course, I’m back to that other problem of gravity: standing.

Complaint or Affirmation?

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Over the years, in my attempt to write books, I have learned. For instance, there is a legal term “waive.” There is also a word, “canvass.” I found that out the hard way. My worst mistake was misspelling one of my books titles,”The survivers.”

I am not going to make excuses for myself. It was a dumb, stupid mistake, and a woman called me out on it. I corrected the mistake, and others went on to read and enjoy the book. I even got one 4-star review, though most were only 3 stars.

The thing is, the woman did me a great favor, or even a privilege, with her complaint, and I was genuinely thankful for it. Moreover, I will be grateful for any other corrections. You see, I really enjoy the affirmations, but I find the complaints more profitable.

I am not the first to realize that complaints are good things. There was a man who pleaded with his customers, “Please give me the privilege of hearing your complaints.” He built a retail empire because of it.

Lately, many submit an opportunity to use surveys to rate them. You know, the 1 to 5 star rating thing. Invariably, I notice many companies pointing to survey results, boasting about how many stars they have.

It is but one reason I refuse to take part in surveys. It is fine for some things such as books. However, sometimes I get the idea that big corporations seek not the complaints but rather the affirmations.

Immediately after I purchased my Chevrolet HHR, they had me take a survey. Three years later, I could not find a place anywhere to register a complaint. They wanted the affirmations right after I bought the car. They clearly have little interest in complaints three years later.

Actually, my purpose was to help them with my remark. Clearly, they weren’t interested.

Lately, Walmart has been requesting surveys from me. It would seem they were seeking complaints, but I suspect they just want to accumulate stars. In other words, they are seeking those wonderful accolades.

I was tired of deleting the surveys, so I filled it out. I’ll let you guess how I did it. I don’t think they will like me anymore.

For anyone else who might see this, they might decide against asking me to fill in their survey. Better to keep it simple. Just ask if I have any complaints. Better yet, provide someone to take my complaint to—that is, assuming they really want the privilege of my complaint.

Frequently, we customers don’t complain. If possible, we simply go away.

Here They Come

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Subtitle: I Told You So

Years ago, maybe one or two will remember, I wrote a post about driverless cars. The prediction has come true. I heard it on the news today.

There was a crowd that speculated 60 Teslas had accidents while on Autopilot. They suggest the loss of 60 lives because the computer does not drive as well as a human. Personally, I challenge the concept. Suspect it is likely half and half. Likely a little more one way than the other.

Whichever way, whatever happens, the die is being cast. Those legal eagles, ambulance chasers have smelled blood in the water, and soon the lawsuits will start flying.

Buckle up for a wild ride through the autonomous automotive frontier! While self-driving cars rev my imagination, I can’t help but ponder the ultimate showdown: Silicon Valley’s algorithmic prodigy versus the unpredictable human behind the wheel. Will our robotic chauffeurs outsmart the caffeine-fueled, text-messaging, road-rage-prone human drivers? The jury’s still out, and this technological tango promises to be more suspenseful than a high-stakes game of bumper cars.

Expert witnesses will parade in, each side wielding their technical wizards like legal weapons. The computer’s impeccable security will be interrogated, cross-examined, and dissected with surgical precision. Meanwhile, the lawyers will be grinning from ear to ear, their framed diplomas casting a victorious gleam on the courtroom walls, knowing they’re the only true beneficiaries of this digital drama.

The ambulance chasers will likely win their share, and the defense attorneys will likely win a few. Most will likely be settled out of court. Sometimes the defense will be afraid of losing and set a standard. Sometimes, the prosecutor will settle, afraid to set the standard the other way.

As all the paperwork from all the legal briefs finishes trickling down from above, the losers will be the drivers. The cost of the cars will skyrocket, and naturally, the cost of auto insurance will likely follow.

Sure, a settlement might line a few pockets, but who’s signing up to trade their body parts for a payout? Not this savvy survivor, that’s for sure. I’d rather keep my limbs intact and my bank account untouched.

So, at some point, the computer has to become better than the human. I ask you, do we take the steering wheel out of the hands of humans for the safety of others? On the other hand, do we permit humans to hold onto the wheel in spite of it being more dangerous?

Futurists, brace yourselves: the million-dollar question is lurking just around the corner, ready to pounce when we least expect it. And hey, while we’re at it, we might want to whip up some shiny new laws that are as clever as they are cutting-edge.

Considering laws are made by lawyers for lawyers, I don’t expect to see it in my lifetime.

Missed my Chance at a Million

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I’ve developed an innovative personal hygiene product called the Sneeze Pad, a groundbreaking solution designed to enhance public health and personal safety. The concept features an elegantly simple design that can be easily manufactured, with potential for aesthetic refinement and customization. This practical invention addresses the growing need for immediate sneeze containment and could revolutionize personal protective equipment.

A compact, ergonomic protective shield designed for personal hygiene during respiratory events. Measuring approximately 3 by 4 inches, this innovative device features adjustable wrist straps for secure forearm attachment. The surface is covered with a specialized, adhesive-backed material treated with advanced antimicrobial agents. When a user experiences a sneeze or cough, they can direct respiratory droplets onto the pad, where the chemically treated fabric immediately captures and neutralizes potential pathogens, preventing their spread and maintaining a hygienic environment.

In the aftermath of the global health crisis, my innovative solution remains unrecognized. Despite its potential to save countless lives, the moment has passed. While pharmaceutical companies, healthcare providers, and medical facilities capitalized on the pandemic’s urgency, my breakthrough idea sits unrealized. The opportunity for recognition and potential financial success has slipped away, leaving me with a sense of missed potential and unfulfilled promise.

On the other hand, the pharmaceutical companies are still making their fortunes off me. Since I took the vaccine, I’ve had at least three blood clots. So now I take this medication that makes my nose bleed. I do put up with the nose bleeds so I don’t have any more blood clots. Oh, and by the way, I pay almost a hundred dollars a month, this after Medicare and auxiliary insurance.

It appeared that nearly everyone prospered during the pandemic, except for those like myself who continued to struggle with lingering health complications. While some found opportunity and resilience, I couldn’t ignore the profound loss experienced by those who succumbed to the virus and the families left behind to grieve.

I’m Afraid That Age & Reality is Catching up With Me

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It’s getting more difficult for me to think of the words I want to say. Sometimes it forces me to abandon the way I want to say things. I am now 78 and even with the help of the computer, I am afraid it is getting time for me cease writing posts.

My guess is that there are those that will be glad to hear it. I am not sure exactly when I will write my last message to my readers, but I can’t imagine it will be much more than a month. Much more than that, it will likely be mandatory. It is taking me longer each time I sit down to write something.

Well, at least, for what it is worth, I did last long enough to help get another old man into the Oval Office. I likely didn’t help him that much, but I like to think I was contributing much more than I did. I also like to think I didn’t hurt the effort.

If nothing else, I would like to leave any atheist with this challenge, assuming they all have the courage. It is what I call the three prayer challenge. Three times, once a day, pray this prayer. “If you are real, God, tell me.” Of course, if the atheist is right, they have nought to fear. On the other hand, if he or she does get a reply, it just might change your life forever. That, for sure is why it takes real courage to participate in the challenge. If you receive a reply, then you will need to make a decision. Regardless of what decision you make, your atheist days will be over, which is why it is a real challenge.

I say this so that you take this challenge now, before you become to old, you know, like me. I have already made my decision. However, you really want to make sure you take the challenge before age and reality catch up with you. You don’t want to wait until you are too old to make the decision.

Don’t tell me, you don’t have the time, 2 seconds a day. I think it is the fear, not time, which stands in the way. And if you get an answer, that means there is a God. It becomes indisputable. My best guess, you won’t do it. You are afraid you will get an answer.

Well, as you read this, you can already see, I am sure that I am beginning to ramble a little. Still, you get the idea.

What Makes me Laugh?

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Unexpected bursts of laughter punctuate my days, catching me off guard with their spontaneous delight. Initially reluctant to explore this writing prompt, I soon realized that these unscripted moments of joy are the most precious—emerging suddenly, transforming ordinary instances into memorable snapshots of pure, unadulterated happiness.

However, these are usually also the ones I can’t think of at the moment. It is good that God has given us humor to allow us to cope. One day near the end of Marine boot camp, I started laughing. The guy next to me cautioned me that I would suffer if I were caught, and he was right. However, I replied, “I have to laugh. If I don’t, I’ll cry.”

I guess God gave us both laughing and crying as coping mechanisms. For the time being, though, I’ll forego my comments on crying as the prompt was for laughing. Besides, we Marines never, never cry.

Children bring us laughter, right? And at the most unexpected times. I can remember the first time my 1-year-old son tasted a lemon; then fussed when we took it from him. Of course we immediately gave it back and he ate it. Never figured on that one.

Pets are divine comedians, sent to brighten our lives with unbridled joy. My loyal canine companion found pure bliss in pursuing oversized rubber spheres, a mere $2.99 investment that yielded endless entertainment. Despite his valiant efforts to conquer the unwieldy orb, his teeth never quite found purchase. Inevitably, after an exhausting pursuit, he would manage to pop the ball, while we dissolved into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Those three dollars were a masterful purchase, transforming an ordinary afternoon into a memory of pure, unadulterated happiness.

Cats possess an enchanting fascination with strings, their playful nature coming alive as they track the elusive movement. Watching their determination intensify when the string disappears beneath furniture is a delightful spectacle of feline curiosity. Their love for boxes transcends size – from sprawling cardboard containers to tiny packages – each becomes an irresistible playground. Even when logic suggests a box is too small, cats will ingeniously contort themselves to fit, defying physical constraints with remarkable flexibility. Perhaps most amusing is their laser pointer pursuit, where they leap and bound with wild abandon, scaling walls in an epic chase against an unattainable light, embodying pure, unbridled joy.

Yet, as I reflect on those moments, memories dance across my mind, bringing forth a warm, nostalgic smile.

The act of writing brought unexpected joy, punctuating my reflective moments with subtle grins. Each carefully crafted word seemed to unlock memories and emotions, transforming my initial hesitation into a meaningful exploration of thought and experience. thus, I can say, even the prompt brought a smile, if not an outburst of laughter.

3 Questions About my New I-phone

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I recently purchased an iPhone 14 from T-Mobile and quickly discovered several intriguing features that piqued my curiosity. Initially, I noticed a small tab near the volume buttons and wondered about its purpose. A couple days ago, a voicemail from my sister arrived, which caught my attention because the phone had remained silent during the incoming call. These unexpected details prompted me to explore the device’s functionality more closely.

Frustration mounted as I navigated through the labyrinthine settings, certain I had accidentally silenced my phone’s ringer. Despite my systematic search, the elusive mute option remained hidden. Determined, I dialed my number three consecutive times, each call connecting flawlessly, yet not a single sound emerged from the device.

Now I had three questions: the little tab, how I muted the ringer and how in the world I was going to get the thing turned back on before throwing the thing through the nearest wall.

My determination was put to the test as I meticulously searched for nearly ninety minutes before reluctantly reaching out to the local T-Mobile store. To my amusement, my call not only solved my problem but also brought unexpected joy to the customer service representative. Her laughter, palpable even through the phone, suggested a shared moment of understanding, as she revealed she had experienced a similar situation herself.

She clarified everything with her response. The indicator tab functioned as a switch, and when displaying red, it signaled that the ringer was deactivated—exactly as I had observed on my device.

I’m thoroughly impressed with this phone. Despite a few minor quirks I’m still navigating, it significantly outperforms my previous device. The innovative concept behind the switch is particularly compelling, and I commend the design team’s creative approach. My only reservation is the level of secrecy surrounding it.

So, Where’s the Key?

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I will save you the whys and wherefores, but I like to do most of my shopping late, as late as I can.

So, tonight, I sat out on getting mostly groceries. However, I did have some other things in mind, specifically socks for one. I sat out a little after nine this evening. Conveniently, I was able to gather most of my stuff quickly, being as the Walmart was not really that crowded. Well, I did have a few run-ins. I ran into two folks twice on my way to get cat-food. Honest, the woman did run right in front of me.

I told her she had the right idea. “Moving targets are always more difficult to hit.” She gave me a polite smile but I don’t think she liked my humor. Either that or she didn’t like having to dodge my buggy.

At any rate, I soon had almost everything I was after. Knowing it was getting close to closing time, I did something I rarely do. I asked directions. The guy in the Walmart vest, had an expression that I was suspicious of. Reluctantly, he pointed and said, “Right over there.” Then he added, “But they are locked up.”

I looked down at the floor for a while then back up at him. “Please tell me you have the key.”

Suffice it to say, I drove home with a completed shopping list, but for one thing. It was the main thing I was after. Now, forgive me. I will need to wear the same socks two days straight.

One more thing. When I go back tomorrow, I’ll need to make sure to check to see if the man with keys is there before going any further. If I have to wait for them, I promise, I will be going elsewhere.

Be advised, theft does have costs besides the monetary ones.

Also, if you plan on getting socks at Walmart, I suggest you go before 5:00 PM

Little afterthought. Maybe the keeper of the key should be required to post some kind of indication, “The key is in.” I mean, why go in there specially for socks only to find out the keeper of the key is not there.

Do You Have 20 Minutes?

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The reason I ask that is it is how long it took me to buy a stamp.

I no longer do much business with the USPS. I have little reason to. Well, I was somewhat compelled to use their services. It was either get the stamp and let Medicare pay the bill or not get the stamp and pay a thousand-dollar bill myself.

I will not keep you in suspense. I did get the stamp and I did mail the letter, eventually.

In the past, purchasing stamps was a swift and straightforward process: you could enter a post office, approach a vending machine, and quickly obtain your stamps, typically within a minute or two, even with mobility challenges.

I anticipated this outcome, but the lack of vending machines surprised me. A single, multipurpose machine handling everything from letters to packages stood before me, with a line of five people waiting to use it.

The crowded service counter buzzed with tension, four employees working amid a serpentine queue of six impatient customers. I stood at the threshold, recognizing instantly that any choice I made would lead to an unsatisfactory outcome.

As I waited in line for the machine, I couldn’t help but notice the adjacent queue seemed to inch forward slightly quicker. Torn between impatience and commitment, I weighed my options: abandon my current spot after investing ten minutes or maintain my position with stubborn determination.

I stood there, staring at the complex contraption before me, its cryptic instructions mocking my attempts to understand its operation. In that moment, I realized my odds of successfully navigating this machine were slimmer than my chances of becoming the next lunar explorer.

I gazed at the postal queue, contemplating whether personally delivering the document would be more efficient. The line had dwindled to three customers, with an equal number of postal workers behind the counter. At least the self-service machine stood mercifully unoccupied.

The line dwindled until only I remained, with two clerks still stationed behind the counter. A growing unease settled over me as the possibility of leaving unstamped became increasingly likely, my anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

I stood at the counter, patience wearing thin as the line crawled forward. Two employees worked behind the register, but the crowd seemed to move at a glacial pace. A glimmer of hope sparked when one customer departed, only to be extinguished as a staff member simultaneously vanished from view. Sensing my mounting frustration, a nearby worker offered a placating smile and assured me someone would assist me momentarily. I couldn’t help but sardonically wonder about the legal implications of such a vague promise, knowing full well that her casual reassurance carried no binding weight.

Then, as I said before, I did get my stamp and it was mailed. Next time, I will bring my tent and camping equipment. I suggest you do the same.

Just What Makes Federal Employees Special?

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On a crisp September morning, I arrived at my workplace, ready to start another day. It was a routine occurrence, much like the countless previous workdays I had experienced over the past twelve years.

My manager requested my presence, which was not entirely unexpected. Occasionally, they assigned me special tasks or sought clarification on my work. While not an uncommon occurrence, I approached the meeting with an open mind, ready to address any questions or concerns.

How-some-ever, this time the situation was distinct. Following a brief discussion, I departed the premises, never to return.

I was confused and disappointed to learn that I was among the twenty percent of employees who were let go that day. Despite my hard work and dedication, the decision did not seem to make sense. As I left the premises, I was informed that the company had undergone a significant restructuring, resulting in layoffs across all departments, including maintenance, sales, and software support. Given the size of the organization, this was a substantial reduction in workforce.

They acknowledged their mistake in letting me go and offered to rehire me. They admitted they were aware that my contributions were more extensive than they had realized. While it was a difficult decision, I ultimately chose to decline their offer. There is no need to delve into the specifics.

The point is this: What is so special about federal employees that they should be immune from being fired? I mean, I got fired. Why should a federal employee who has their feet on their desk be immune?

Why shouldn’t federal employees be required to provide periodic accounting? If they are not performing their duties, why can’t they be terminated? If their absence would not be missed, why shouldn’t they be provided with their severance package?

Just why are government employees better than those of us drawing a civilian paycheck?