Throwdown At the Baggage Carousel

I’ve arrived at my out of town destination. Luggage is stored away. Made me think of this post about self-propelled luggage. The idea must have fizzled. Haven’t heard anything more about it since.

itinerantneerdowell

In case you haven’t heard.  Carry on luggage, you can ride, is the latest hit on social media outlets.  Not since the Segway, has any self-propelled device, put the same gleam in the eyes of technophiles.  The official name is “Monobag.”

Per the manufacturer/developer, “Monobag” is the world’s firs motorized, smart and connected, carry-on that gets savvy travelers, tech enthusiasts, and urban day trippers to their destination up to three times faster than walking.”

If you ask me, it will be the same old hurry-up to get to the boarding gate, only to wait once again.  By that time most of those hoofing it, will have caught their breath.

Watching motorized luggage races at the airport would be quite a spectacle.  “And they’re off.  Samsonite’s  on the outside. American Tourister’s coming up on the inside.  Now they’re neck and neck.  What a photo finish.  Samsonite’s the winner by a luggage strap.”

But wait…

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Which Was Worst?

Before I go away from this blog for five days, there’s something on my mind.

Last fall I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder. Since then I’ve used a Bi-Pap device to prevent me from ceasing to breathe while asleep.

The masks that come with these devices are not the easiest to deal with. Because they don’t always fit right and leak during the night. When that happens, they make awful noises–sometimes akin to flatulence.

This awakens me three or four times per night. Which, I suppose is still better than apnea. Regular pillows are part of the problem. Being a side sleeper, they pinch or shift the mask. My wife ordered me a special pillow, with hollowed out places for C-Pap, Bi-Pap masks. Sure hope it works.

From the Boneyard

Me lamenting lost franchises. Wondering what happened?

itinerantneerdowell

H. H. Gregg and Applebees, latest discards, tossed on the growing rubble pile of failed/failing franchises. Regurgitated from murky waters of competition, public tastes, balance sheets drowned in red ink.

Shining new faces atop the trash heap, fade in relentless summer suns, until washed away into the recesses of memory.  Forgotten by most, except for a few nostalgia freaks, such as myself; waiting to spring out on some obscure trivia night.  From dusty shelves, some reporters reaching for ratings, will find fodder for another “whatever happened to?” story to fill a slow news day.

The cemetery of fallen franchises grows ever larger.  Still more are on the critical list–Sears and K-Mart come to mind.  May the fallen rest in peace.  I wish the rest safe passage on their way to franchise Valhalla.

Franchises failed for various reasons.  Why Outback Steak House couldn’t make it locally is still a mystery.  Speaking from my little corner of the world–what was with the proliferation of restaurants offering chicken fingers?  “To franchise gurus…

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Influencers

What were influencers? A word birthed by social media, and nurtured by social media followers.

I only know about You Tube, Facebook, and Twitter. That’s adequate for me. I don’t choose to be influenced by those I don’t know.

How-to You Tube videos are a personal favorite. One particular gentleman collects and refurbishes old Greyhound buses. He’s got his own “handle” and theme song. He travels across the country in his vintage 1947 Greyhound to assist others with their antique bus needs.

I admire his dedication and repair skills. That doesn’t mean acquisition of a used Greyhound is in my future. Even though the sound of a resuscitated Detroit Diesel makes my pulse beat faster. I once worked for a trucking company.

There would be no influencers, if people were unwilling to be influenced. As a natural-born skeptic, count me among that group.

Across Thy Prairies Verdant Growing…

An autobiographical, coming of age story.

itinerantneerdowell

Clear-channel 50,000 watts of all-night radio, broadcasted across the vast Midwestern prairie and beyond.

John McCormick, “the man who walked and talked at midnight,” was there for our listening pleasure; with the best music and conversation to keep us company.

McCormick had a deep-timbered voice, that either soothed, or lulled listeners to sleep.  That was his job, I supposed.  I would have preferred raspy-voiced Wolfman Jack.

“We’re gonna’ play more music for you–all night long!  Can you dig It?”  Interspersed with a few Wolfman howls and I’d stay wide-awake.  Dad wouldn’t dig any of it.

My job was to assist with loading and deliveries.  More importantly, to keep my father awake on his all-night delivery route through four Illinois counties.

It seemed odd to me then, dad being such a firm disciplinarian, to see him kibitzing with  guys at the full-service, Standard Oil station, on a busy corner in Springfield, Illinois.  He was obviously a regular visitor.  It was…

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What Was It?

What was Radeon Software? It needed to be updated.

Why did I have it? Why was it needed? What did it do for me?  Where did it come from?

When it came to technology, I was a mere trained monkey.  Bossed around by edicts from technological gadgets.

Could I ignore this latest update? There were a lot of questions, tht was for sure.

Where did the answers lie? At Google. Google knew everything.