Green to brown
Brown to green
Joy to grief
Grief to joy
How many times
In a lifetime?
Drops of rain
“Maestro Zeb, with the Gulf Coast, Cacophonic Choir & Pelagic Orchestra”
“Ms. Cardinal shared her wonderful world with family and friends”
“He hideth my soul in the cleft of a rock”
“Hopping and hoping–on a sand bar”
“Escaped on the wings of a summer dragonfly”
“Prophetic ancient live oak arms, welcomed worshippers”
“Softly and tenderly–an invitation to come and rest”
–Images, *Frank Abbott Photography, **Lynn Jordan Photography, ***Craig Roberts, ****D. Williams–
“MY OLD SCHOOL”
Arched window tops came to a point. This former high school, in Medora, IL, (population 500), was my old school. Part of my grade school years were spent there. My mother taught school in that building for most of her career.
Lets get right to the point. I’m old school, can’t always finish what I start–when it comes to computers and electronic devices. My frustration, isn’t shared by computer geeks, regular computer users, and even typical young children. My struggles, they very likely find strange–if not amusing.
It’s not technology itself, that I rail against. Attitude is everything. I have a problem with support personnel lacking in people skills. Expertise, doesn’t justify condescension and/or arrogance.
Albert Einstein–one of the smartest men that ever lived, had a reputation for being personable. No doubt he told some wickedly funny jokes at parties. And what’s not funny about time-space continuums and shifting paradigms?
Perhaps, I’m one among many non-specific geniuses? I know how to fix leaky faucets–caulk windows, change spark plugs, and many other mundane tasks. Once, when in an adult education class, I stripped a computer down to the mother board, reassembled it, and it worked PERFECTLY. Take that–computer geeks!
While I’m being dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century; think about this hypothetical example. Me dashing past your subcompact; that’s stranded by the side of the road, because the engine control computer died. I’m riding high and dry in a beat-up, vintage ’47 Dodge pickup, with rattling fenders. It’s an ancient vehicle, that still operates daily, as originally intended, and is two-times older (if not more) than most bloggers. It’s easy to fix if it breaks down, parts are inexpensive and readily available.
For all of the snarky, snickering, Grinches hiding behind 1-800 customer service numbers–wherever you are, I have a special gift list. Too many of you made my naughty list this Christmas. I have plenty of aged fruitcakes waiting to be re-gifted–hardened to perfection.
For the especially naughty, one of Aunt Olga’s hand-knitted gaudy sweaters, with extra sleeves of random lengths. Aunt Olga uses extra-itchy woolen yarn from her favorite, rock-bottom discount store. I think it’s leftovers from a nearby carpet mill. Will all of you Grinches promise to do better next year? If not, I’ve got Auntie “O’s” liver soufflé, and I’m not afraid to use it.
Remaining Grinches, surly computer geeks, will receive the following gift. To demonstrate that I’m not completely computer challenged–a personally, selected compilation of musical memories: “Mr. Spock Sings of Christmas,” “Slim Whitman Yodels Favorite Bird Calls,” “Surfin’ Bird,” by the Trashmen, “Chewy, Chewy,” by Ohio Express, “Little Willie,” by The Sweet, and the complete Spike Jones Collection (the old-school musician, not the movie guy, with the, almost the same, last name).
And furthermore, the point of my diatribe–and yes, “Virginia,” there really was one. I’m a hardware, not a software guy–always have been and always will be. During this wonderful time of the year, many people around the world don’t know where their next meal is coming from. We have so much and others have so little. Don’t be a Grinch’s helper this Christmas! Holiday thoughts to ponder from an “Old School,” hard-headed, hardware guy.
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