It's a LIGHT BULB

I rarely watch television - mostly because I find most shows to be absolutely dreadful. Still, I almost always have it on as background noise when I am home in the evening - usually Travel Channel or Discovery Channel - something that at least sounds educational (though Man Versus Food and America's Worst Driver on Travel Channel have dumbed it down significantly).

Tonight I was just settling down to Travel Channel and a beautiful nature show on Alaska and started eating a nicely grilled steak when, "snap" the picture goes out but the sound continues. The bulb burnt out (I have a rear-projection television). It was not really a stressor because I knew the bulb had a limited life-span and there is a panel that pops off the back of the set for easy bulb replacement.

I called the local big box chain appliance store where I purchased the television. They don't carry the bulbs, but there is a convenient link on the website for ordering.

Easy enough.

I know my set model and type it in.

With shipping - $219.

It's a LIGHT BULB.

Granted - it is a fancy light bulb, but it's a LIGHT BULB!

Still - it is cheaper than a new television and I almost have this one figured out after three years, so I pulled out the card.

But I keep thinking: It's a LIGHT BULB!

Ahhh Spring

For most of the past week, the weather here in Austin has been about as perfect at weather can get. I actually described it as "San Diego weather" today at lunch with some friends as we sat on the outdoor patio.

Immediately after lunch, I came home and took my computer out to the back yard to test the network strength - and it works, so I was able to work outside for a while with some issues - namely, the computer's metal case is so shiny, there was a great glare on it that made it almost impossible to use. After moving around to a few places, I found one shady enough that the glare was no longer a problem.

It was so nice to be able to get the work done while I am out in the peacefulness of my yard makes means I get the best of both worlds - I can be productive and relax at the same time. I am not sure if that is a good thing or not, but I'll take it for now.

Rolled Over

Saturday afternoon as I was hurrying off to the next event of my day I noticed an overturned wheelchair in a lane across the intersection where I was stopped. Initially, my thought was that the wheelchair would make it hard for the vehicles in that lane to pass until enough cars has brushed and crushed it into a speed-bump of unrecognizable metal. I was glad I was not in that lane.

On a second glance, I noticed cloth fluttering in the breeze under the wheelchair. Then I noticed that the cloth fluttering under the overturned wheelchair was not fluttering in the wind, but contained the body of the wheelchair’s occupant. He was there squirming and moving as ineffectually as a days-old kitten separated from the rest of the litter.

The cars passing through the intersection created a strobe-light effect on the immobilized man’s struggle. They only allowed me to see that bit of motion visible in the space between bumpers as the cars sped by, oblivious to the desperate attempts of the man in the street.

Fairly quickly people stopped a the intersection in the lanes across the median off which the man had tumbled jumped out of their cars, picked up the man, and wheeled him across the street. For those few moments, from first noticing the man floundering on the ground until seeing him safely in the parking lot, I actually considered the possibility that the man would be left there in the street. At first glance that seemed his destiny.

Driving away, I could not get the image out of my head. The thought of being so helpless in such a treacherous situation haunted me for the rest of the weekend. It is easy to drive past the neighborhood panhandlers, wondering whether the apparent disabilities such as the limp, the lame arm, or use of the wheelchair are genuine and put the wondering out of my mind the instant that person is out of sight.

This time it was not so easy. The man’s feeble attempts at motion continue to replay themselves in my mind. His most determined efforts at first appeared no greater than cloth blowing in the breeze, mere twitching. The minimal pathetic actions all combined did not move the man even an inch. In his wheelchair, he somehow made his way into the intersection almost every day, but out of that contraption, he is utterly unable to function.

Even though I now know this one panhandler’s case is sincere, I still don’t give him money. I choose to donate to local charities that serve our indigent community and I feel even more justified in doing so. If this guy is helpless with an overturned wheelchair, he is equally helpless against the thugs and thieves who hang out in the homeless camp in the grove of trees just off the street. I’ll let the local agencies provide the services on my dime rather than doubt the direction that dime takes when it gets into homeless hands.

Now I wonder about the backstory to the overturned wheelchair.

Big Boy Bedroom

For most of my adult life, I have been very proud of my bed - an antique metal bed that belonged to my grandparents and on which my mother was born (yes, I bought a new mattress when I first started using it - just in case). After buying my own home almost four years ago, I began to want something more modern and more in style with the much larger bedroom that I had, so I had been wanting a queen sized bed. Finally, in November I bought a good queen mattress and used it on a simple frame, but it was too low and didn't really satisfy what I wanted in a bed.

I am fairly picky in what I wanted in the furniture: solid wood or metal; contemporary, but not dated -- oooohhhhh so 2010!; either high enough for underbed storage, or low enough I wasn't wasting space by not storing things under it.

So while R was out of town last weekend, I took the opportunity to switch things around and put the entire new bedroom together. He was quite pleased the first time he walked in to find it. He agreed that it fit the bedroom better and was a better height than the lower frame.

I didn't really need a new bed because the other was quite nice and sturdy. There is just something about finally having my own furniture with my own style that gives me a bit more of a grown up feeling - even though there are stuffed animals on the bed (a sock monkey and two turtles).

Almost Trashed

I only take the walk down to the mailbox a time or two a week because 95% of what comes is junk mail. It takes very little time to scan through the piles of envelopes and circulars to determine what I'm going to keep and what is instantly going into the trash.

The other day, as I picked through the junk, one envelope caught my eye with it's red stamps and bold print. With the overbearing print, it was clearly nothing I really wanted to see.

But being the speed reader that I am, I noticed the first line under the bold red stamp - then paused to read the rest.


Almost anyone who watches television will be able to figure out which insurance company sent the letter. Though the letter went quickly into the trash, I did take the time to pull out my camera and take a photo of the humorous lines on the front of the envelope.

I wonder how many others have completely missed the humor in the rush to dispense of an additional piece of clutter in their lives.

Clearly the marketers somewhere thought this would be an effective strategy to get people to slow down and at least think about the product (which I'm more sure they made a point to sell on the inside of the envelope - that I did not open). They did get me to slow down and chuckle a bit and I appreciate them for it, but I'm still not changing car insurance.

However, if I do....

Flamingos

It has taken forever to get through all the photos I took during the trip to Disney in January. In going through them, I found my favorite photos were from Animal Kingdom which is the semi-zoo, semi-safari part of the Disney parks.

Of all the photos taken there, the photos of the extremely colorful birds were among my favorites. Though not as colorful as some of the birds in the compound, the flamingos were particularly photogenic - perhaps because they just stood there with their heads tucked in.

Thanks to the magic of the zoom lens, I was able to take this incredibly close-up picture of the flamingo. When I print it, I think I'm going to order it in poster size because of the stunning details in the feathers when seen at full size. I just keep going back to the picture again and again. If your computer will allow, click on the picture to enlarge.

When I have a little more time to sit at the computer and play, I'll be posting more pictures of the different animals at Animal Kingdom.

The Other Lyrics

I know there is at least one book dedicated to frequent misinterpretations of lyrics (He’s Got the Whole World In His Pants). Some of them are so funny you wonder how anyone every thought that could be what a singer was saying, others though, are better than the original lyrics.

Tonight while steaming in the shower to try to open up some sinus congestion, I was doing what I so often do in the shower - sing. Everything in the relationship with R has been so good lately, I was singing, “Love is Many Splendored Thing” (from the 1955 film by the same name) when I was interrupted by a coughing fit as some of the lovely mucus broke loose. It sounded more like, “love is a many splintered thing.”

Between fits of laughter and fits of coughing, I tried singing it that way, and it really works.

In some ways, it’s just as true as the original lyrics, but I’m much happier to keep love splendored than splintered.

Excuse Me

Since I have fully determined to lose the 20 pounds I added last year (and the ten I started the year wanting to lose), I have been packing my lunch daily. My lunches have all been a very healthy chopped vegetable salad with a nice garlic and onion vinaigrette dressing. The salad fills and satisfies.

It also causes gas.

Shortly after lunch, I resumed work. At one point I turned from my computer screen to look at a paper on my desk. Midway through the turn, a burp erupted that echoed across my office and out into the greater room outside.

Four people share the space outside my office. The way it is organized, I cannot see if anyone is present at any given time or not. I waited a moment to see if any shocked response emanated from the outer area. No response came, but I felt obliged to offer up an apology, so matching the volume of the burp, I shouted, “Excuse me.” out to any unfortunate person who may have heard the offense.

My embarrassed cry was met my the motion sensor turning off the lights in the outer area.

Life on the Beach III

The lifeguard stands along Miami Beach mostly looked like the square stands on poles, but this one stood out among them for it's aerodynamic shape and bright colors.

Of course, it was along the border area to the gay section of the beach according to R. If he had not told me this, I never would have noticed based on any observation of people along the beach, as it was a mix of men, women, families. Maybe in the summer it is much more segregated than on a windy winter day.

The Creative Nuisance

I do now know why creativity works for me in quite the way it does, but the writing notion most frequently strikes me while I am in the middle of some essential task from which I cannot break away. While I did have a significant amount of deep thinking and creativity over my recent break, the fun creativity struck about the time the first annoying email crossed my screen at work. People with whom I work are generally fine, it is the people in affiliated organizations who expect their whims and wishes to take precedence who grate on my last nerve. With the first annoying email, I began to think of names I could call the person and what fun it would be to recreate her parents’ thought process in generating her name.f

But no!

I had important work to consider. Tasks to get done. Meetings to schedule. I did not have time to whip out pen and paper and start writing jokes.

So I pulled out a post-it pad and scribbled down the most memorable puns and posits regarding her parental moniker manipulation.

Soon work engulfed me and I began to make real progress for the day until my phone started chiming with emails and texts - mostly work related, but some socially connected ones immediately distracted me with thoughts about how to respond.

Some days I think I need Ritalin - and I should have not Googled the correct spelling of Ritalin as it took me to new and wondrous topics I never expected from a drug designed to help one concentrate - but then again, Google knows someone looking up Ritalin probably is having trouble concentrating.

The truth behind it, I think, is that when I am not working, my mind really can go wherever it wants and take as many tangents as it wishes. When working, though, my mind gets trapped in a little box called “work,” and seeks any window for an escape.

One reason I keep finding post-it notes with various phrases or sentence outlines originates from the creative interruption in my work cycle. Sometime it originates in taking bad notes and forgetting what they all mean.

Whatever it is, the creativity does often for me becomes a nuisance. I appreciate the creative juices when they are directed at fulfilling the demands of the job, but dread the interruptions that take me far from the workplace in my mind. Until I have a job that fully integrates my creative and productive desires, I am stuck with battling the wills of each value and occasionally catching myself boundlessly bantering with silly sentences of alliteration.