Phone Trash

GE DIGITAL CAMERA

 Aging & Attitude

   Remember being a nine-year old and selecting a number from the telephone book; dialing the number and addressing the party by name, Mr. or Mrs. Smith, to ask; “Is your refrigerator running?” When the reply was “Yes,” I delivered the gem of a retort, “Well, you better go catch it,” and hung up the phone doubled over in laughter with a room full of my closest friends.

That was summer fun in 1957. That and playing Gin Rummy under a weeping willow tree or collecting discarded cigarette butts from the gutter to smoke after straightening them out.

Phone trash became more sophisticated in 1962. We lived in Hensonville, N.Y. and had a party line. Our number was two digit, eight -seven; an operator much like Lillian Tomlin on Laugh-In connected you to the party to whom you spoke. A telephone hullabaloo erupted when my boyfriend, Ronnie King, wrote my brother’s girlfriend, Lillian St. Claire, a hand written letter, saying he would give her a ring when he came upstate for the summer. He stuffed the letter in an envelope and glued a three-cent stamp in the right hand corner. Ron meant he would call her on the telephone but Lillian, a drama queen, used the line out of context to set the Windham Ashland Jewett High School reeling and all party lines smoking.

Today phone trash is real a dilemma I experienced when all four phones in our home displayed the prompt, still connecting. Since the batteries had recently been replaced, I gave it time, and waited until 10:30 PM to contact the Bright House customer service line.  A recorded message said, “Most problems can be corrected by pushing the reset button on the “Box.”  Crawling under a desk equipped with a flashlight and cake tester to reset did not work, and consequently used my cell telephone to speak with a live person.

An hour conversation determined an on-site visit is needed and someone would be out between three and five pm the next day. I had inadvertently reset the router box and now did not have wireless internet service as well. It is now after midnight.

Promptly at three PM, the doorbell rang and to make a long story short, after testing all equipment the technician determined I needed new phones. It was likely the power pack was faulty and more unlikely I would be able to buy one. I had to go shopping.

A day and a half later, we had land line service. I am still working on the internet.

Here is the dilemma, what to do with the four telephones, four new batteries, one answering device, three phone docks and one power pack that might possible work.

  • Donate to  Goodwill
  • Sell on Craigslist
  • Convince my neighbor she needs them for her grandkids to play house.
  • Save the four batteries, (although they do not fit my new phones someone I know might have phones they do).
  • Throw everything in the garbage and pray Zero Waste blogger, Jen, does not haunt my dreams.
  • None of the above and have a suggestion to leave in comment box                                                                                                                                                                                   ….just saying

Am I Politically Stupid?

Capital_Building

 Aging & Attitude

“Hardball” with Chris Matthews is on the television as I join Mr. Wonderful on the couch to snuggle.  The urgent tone in Matthew’s voice compels me to listen. A heated discussion about Mitt Romney’s selection of Paul Ryan as a VP running mate is taking place, analyst predict Ryan’s budget cuts will intensify the political fight over Medicare.

By commercial time I feel stupid, have difficulty following the ping-pong conversation and question what I can follow, as not making sense.

What fight over Medicare? Every republican in the House and Senate, including Paul Ryan signed into law Obama’s cuts to Medicare Providers (insurance companies, hospitals, nursing homes and drug companies).

Oops, right the 2012 budget was never passed on July 31st, a continuing resolution was approved.

“Oh wait, wait, don’t tell me,” Romney says he will not sign the bill into effect if elected.

After the break I turn up the volume and lean in to concentrate.

Chris Matthews introduces Ezra Klein,a political columnist for the Washington Post, and David Leonhardt, Washington bureau chief of New York Times, to clarify the politics of scaring people especial baby boomers.

Matthew insists Leonhardt delineate Obama, Romney and Ryan on Medicare for viewers.

Delineate sounds dangerous and I am nervous but Leonhardt delivers the difference clearly, with a smile. It is simple without all the political double talk.

  • Obama keeps a single payer government system with cuts to provider management and an emphasis on quality care in the future.
  • Paul Ryan voted yes for all of Obama’s cuts (“only because Obama did first”) but in ten years wants to move to a voucher system, aka, premium support e.g. a check sent to Mr/Ms Senior Citizen to shop around for a provider.
  • Romney wants the voucher system in ten years, but not the cuts in the 2013 Budget/ resolution deal, he will veto when brought to a vote in March 2013 if elected. (Republicans are foxy.)

Ezra Klein confirms the points and reiterates that Obama makes modest changes, the voucher plan is radical; and all three politicians predict the same path of growth in Medicare but look for savings in very different ways for the entitlement program.

The term entitlement blurs my mind and triggers thoughts of stupidity.  I know I’m entitled to Social Security and Medicare benefits because for the past fifty years I and my employer have contributed to the fund. We had a deal; give Uncle Sam part of your pay weekly and the money will be returned for retirement and medical coverage.

Why do I feel caught with my hand in the cookie jar?

Wait, wait don’t tell me, I’ll get my money back but what is left will not cover the costs of Medicare so  cuts are mandatory.

Let me get my pea size brain around this with an analogy I can relate to.

I put aside $100 to buy a dress, when I go to buy the dress it costs $115. There is  only $55 in the kitty because my sister Judy borrowed money to buy designer shoes, consequently, the dress costs too much. If Judy returns the designer shoes the dress becomes affordable.

Wait, wait don’t tell me, Judy has already worn the shoes so I have to shop around for a much cheaper dress (something under $55); what retires, now fifty-five will do in ten years according to a voucher plan.

Am I stupid or are people fifty-five and younger being thrown under a bus?                                                                                                     …just asking

High Definition

Aging & Attitude

My husband can never die. One of the many, many reasons is his ability to surf the TV channel guide. My television viewing is dependent on him. Just when I’ve remembered that Lifetime HD is 1137, it’s not. The local newspaper does not list High Definition channels but I have a dated program locator (aka guide), with several notations about changes, although not enough to entice me off the couch, into the study, and rifling through a file cabinet.

He’s still alive, sitting in his chair so I double-check, “Lifetime is 1124, right?”

“No, it’s number 1237. All HD channels have been regrouped in the 1200 range.”

“How would I know that?”

“It was in the newspaper, remember I told you.”

“I….Forgot.”

Bright House also mailed a flyer about Channel Lineup.”

“That was a TV Guide?”

He is a sweet man. Surely, I can figure Television viewing for myself.

Sunday I study the News Journal television guide, and with a highlighter make note of the day and time of my favorite programs and copy the information in a daily calendar. It does not work.

The shows I like are on at 9PM and later, The Closer, Mad Men, Men of a Certain Age, that lawyer show with Cathy Bates, not Andy or Jackie, you know, Harry’s Law. Typically that’s about the time we switch. I swap whatever I am doing for TV and he retires to the bedroom, saying, “Don’t you want to see such and such?”

“Yes! Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Wonderful.”

In the morning I phone Bright House and after pushing several prompts hear a voice say, “I’m Murray your customer service representative, how can I exceed your expectations?”

Now we are talking.

                                                              ….just saying

Repost “Water Bagging”

Aging & Attitude

 What is Water Bagging? Water Bagging is a newly coined phrased (by me) referring to an experience that can occur in public bathrooms. Water Bagging has a snappy ring, sounds like water boarding minus genuine torture. The similarity, other than the obvious H2O, is the incident left me feeling victimized and asking, “What can be done legally?”

My mission was to exchange an ink cartridge that went dry printing a few Sudoku grids.

The customer service person at the local super store said, “Without a receipt or the packaging, I can only give you ink.”

“That’s fine.” I said. Did she think I wanted money?

“Go get a new one; you don’t have to wait in line again when you come back.”

Great, I hike to technology, grab a new HP cartridge and a second one, just in case, and skip line.  She checks me out with a reminder to save the receipt and off I go. Life is good.

I  see a restroom, do not ‘really’ have to go, but slip inside. All the stalls are in use. The handicap stall frees-up first, no handicap people are in line, and I hurry in.

Thanks to an ABC story, “Your Purse Could be Making You Sick” about pseudopodia, Staphylococcus aureus, ecoli and salmonella invading our homes due to women putting handbags on the floor, I look to hang my bag on the back of the door. The hook is missing. My handbag is small with two handles and closes with a snap, but not snapped. I dump my bag on the edge of the sink and start to undo my slacks.  The bag slumps into the sink, no big deal, until with my pants down and a plastic grocery bag on my wrist notice that like Niagara Falls, water is pouring into my handbag. Tripping, I grab the handbag out of the sink and begin tossing the contents into the plastic bag strangling my wrist. Once the handbag is empty, I pour mega amounts of water out, puddle walk to the toilet, sit with the bags on my lap, and pee, studying my wet stuff.

The ink from the receipt is bleeding and threatens to blotch up several items.

The automated paper towel dispenser is just beyond my reach, wiggling closer (my pants are still down) I manage to activate the release of brown paper by flapping my arms. I wipe things dry while standing.  A couple of deep knee bends later my pants are secured and nothing has touched the floor.

Leaving, I stop to use a noisy hand dryer hoping to preserve the needed HP ink cartridge receipt, conflicted about searching my handbag for ear plugs to prevent loss of hearing from these mother of devices.

Does Water Bagging happen to anyone else? What are the numbers?

Legislation is needed, a grass-roots movement, Women United Against Automatic Flush Toilets, Soap and Paper Towel on Demand Dispensers, and Hot & Cold Water Request Valves That Only Work When You Do Not Want Them To.

We could start a protest similar to Occupy Wall Street, but still pay taxes, babysit grandchildren and sleep in beds.                                                                                                   ….Just Saying.

Repost “Over Active What?”

(Mr. Wonderful is recovering from surgery, and needs my special attention, consequently a  repost that many of you may have missed and others will still enjoy.)

Aging & Attitude

Overactive bladder is a scary phrase for someone my age.  According to Dr. Paul Donohue, there are several ways to wet your pants.  His daily column in the local News Journal Newspaper answered a reader’s concerns and the good news; you can retrain your bladder, and or take medicine.

Leakage or stress incontinence is loss of urine when swinging a golf club, laughing, and sneezing. Laughter and golf may not go together. If you anticipate a good time golfing, tee up with pads, not knee, the other kind. Perhaps you have seen Whoopi Goldberg’s TV advertisements. Another option is to be a straight-faced golfer committed to not laughing.

Urge incontinence is the other overactive bladder condition. Early symptoms (in my non-medical opinion) are, fear that a bathroom is not readily available when needed, and using a bathroom when you do not have to, resulting in bladder shrinkage.

Dr. Donohue states that the medicines Vesicaare, Enablex, Detrol, Ditropan, and Sanctura help control the urge resulting from bladder contractions. He suggests retraining the bladder by delaying use of the bathroom for five minutes for a week and gradually increasing the time before “going” until you are “going” every two hours or more. This process may result in doing the pee-pee dance, but it does work.

He also recommends avoiding alcohol, carbonated beverages, milk, milk products, honey, sugar and artificial sweeteners during training periods. This man is no fun.

Dr. Donohue goes on to describe a more barbaric invasive procedure, called InterStim no one wants to talk about, although it does stimulate a nerve somewhere in the lower body.

Thank you Dr. Paul Donohue. It is comforting to know there are options. We can take medicine or give up my favorites, wine and ice cream, and stay home to retrain our bladder.

                                                                      ….just saying

A Morning Walk On The Beach

GE DIGITAL CAMERA

Aging & Attitude

   The sound, faint in the distance, gathers intensity, as I walk closer. I take my shoes off, and listen to the crescendo, an orchestra’s percussion section; a drum roll of rapidly boiling water rising above a pot edge with white peaks cascading down the side.  I inhale the salty sea air and watch cotton ball clouds hug the horizon as I walk.

The waves have an agenda, moving in shifts, and as the percussion section works its wonder toward the shore, the horns step in, and trumpets whip the water into peaks of sweet cream. Violins and harps join the frolic near the shoreline and linger as the residue changes to beer foam.

I pickup my pace, let the water tickle my toes and remove my hat because the sun is hiding behind a group of clouds. The waves roll back and reveal a pink coquina rock naturally shaped like an alligator, with a twisted tail, protruding neck, and eyes bulged for a better view. The rock earns a lingered look.

Today the sand is speckled with small sea shells scattered above the high tide line like bathers on a popular beach.

The birds do their rapid two-step to imagined music in the air.

A single crane maintains an elegant stance, ready to do a ballerina dance as I leave the beach wishing I had a camera and reduced to words.

                                                                             …. Just Saying

Zero Ending Birthdays

happy-birthday-ornament-backgrounds-wallpapers

Aging & Attitude

A dear writing friend, Marsha, recently celebrated a  zero ending birthday or a “big one” and shared her thoughts about the occasion. She offers an interesting perspective I think you’ll enjoy.

Zero Ending Birthdays

                                      by Guest Blogger, Marsha

Birthday Blog

 (to no one in particular – just because I feel like writing a blog)

I recently celebrated one of those “milestone” birthdays. For the last ten years there has been just a one digit change to the years of life number, but now all of sudden both digits have changed! That comfort zone has been lost to a whole new era of unfamiliar and intimidating numbers. Plus there is this new theory that you are actually ten years younger than your age now, based on the wonders of baby boomers living longer than their predecessors, which presents an entirely new issue of confusion.

Graduating to the new number has also brought to light the birthday cards designed for the consumer to address this milestone. And for some reason, many well wishers seem to think they need to send a card with the new number boldly emblazoned on the front of the card. I hadn’t received a number card before that I could recall, although I probably did for the big 40 (can’t really remember at this point – and it was probably a funny card), as we see a lot of decorations available for this particular birthday milestone in the party stores.

But my recent birthday seems to have prompted a bevy of different salutations that shouted “you should feel excited to be alive at a time when you are really free to live”,” liking what you have become”, or “ this day is to celebrate the beginning of the most beautiful years of your life.”

Seriously – does this make me feel good? Is this a happy birthday greeting?

I’m sorry, but I find this disconcerting and almost downright rude. Do people really think we want to hear this stuff? Isn’t it enough that we are in the quagmire of not yet qualifying for Social Security, dealing with healthcare insurance issues and grappling with where to invest our hard earned retirement money?

You have probably guessed my new number by now.

Please understand that I don’t mind the aging process. I can live with that. What I object to is being reminded that my double digit birthday is a landmark that is being shouted from the rooftops by these ridiculous cards that come our way at a time when you would rather celebrated the day with a simple “Happy Birthday” or a piece of cake……

As my friend Claudia would say

                            ….Just saying

Bored On The Fourth Of July

 Photo: For guaranteed fireworks on the Fourth.

Aging & Attitude

We have been to the beach in the morning, a barbeque in the afternoon and are walking to the Town Green for evening fireworks.  Mr. Wonderful spies a stone wall spot, wide enough for two fannies, on the Green and inquires of the boy sitting next to his family, “Are these taken?”

The space is available; we sit and attempt to get comfortable on the hard rock.

The kid has a sour face and being a Grandma, I poke him with my elbow and say in a friendly way, “You don’t look happy.”

“I’m bored,” is his response.

“What’s wrong with being bored?”  I ask. “It isn’t an illness; people get bored, great thoughts are given birth by boredom.”

His perplexed look is memorable, not rude and I continue talking. “How long have you been bored?”

“A few minutes,” he mumbles but sits up, straightens his back.

I have his attention, now what to do with it. “You must have an exciting life if you’ve only been bored a few minutes.”

“Actually I do, have you ever heard of Malaysia?”

I nodded my head yes.

“I was born in Malaysia, before my parents got married, then we moved to California. They got married and I have two brothers. Now we live in Georgia.” He informs me with animation.

His mother’s glance in my direction confirms my inclination not to ask questions. I lean forward to see his brothers who look nothing like him.

Thinking, better bring the conversation back to boring I say, “Boredom could be time for your brain to rest, or think. You seem thoughtful, how old are you?”

“Why don’t you guess?” is his baited reply.

I study his intelligent eyes and sudden smile, and decided to err on the side of older. “Thirteen?”

“Gee, most people say ten or eleven, I’m twelve.” He answers not hiding his pleasure.

“Seems you’re a thinker, does your school encourage thinking?” He knows my point without further explanation.

“Well you see, mostly you have to have the right answer, but the teacher lets us fight but everyone yells and I…

I interject, “we called it discussions or debates, and the yelling, heated or passionate, like John Adams and Thomas Jefferson did in Congress.”

His mind fast, forwards, “Well, have you heard of  the Marshal Art Taekwondo? See I’m a black belt, the, master is very strict with me, well, like if I don’t do something I have to do push ups, because I will be like a  leader, like keeping peace. Well, it’s like teaching etiquette, or right, have you heard about etiquette?”

“Like a Benjamin Franklin?” I ask, and watch him absorb my comment as the first fireworks explode across the sky.

We are both quiet for the next half hour and enjoy the special effects of our conversation.

Leaving, I ask, “What is your name?”

“Joshua,” he answers with a smile of perfect teeth.

“Joshua, thanks for talking with me.”

I want to say, but don’t, “I’ve heard of discipline and etiquette and feel hopeful for America, you have too.”

The thought lingers in the air.

. . . . Just saying

Help and The Help Button

images

Aging & Attitude

Computers are great. I personally have a love hate relationship with them. I feel in the dark and constantly ask, “How would I know that?” Use the help button is the answer.

Is the help button helpful?

Depends, if you ask the right question.

Case in point, I wanted to change the tired saying, “Do a Good Deed Daily,” at the bottom of my email to “just saying”.

I put the message in, surely, I can get it out.

I attempted to use Yahoo help search, typed in delete a note or message, and got nowhere.

After an hour of trying, I emailed Yahoo Mail Customer Care and praise the Lord received instructions from Tito, who told me what I really wanted to do, change the signature and the seven steps necessary to make the change.

Exhausted I moved the email to a Save Folder for later.

In the meantime, I had other dilemmas. My wireless stopped working.

Do you know how the internet works? You can watch the utube video; There and Back Again: A Packet’s Tale – How doe…By worldscifest| 1 video for a quick study.

I attempted to restore my wireless using troubleshooting, checked and double checked the settings, but was still off-line, so I picked up the phone and called Dell for help.

The customer service representative was diligent, but unsuccessful in restoring my service, and finally enlisted a supervisor to discover there is an on/off wireless button on a Dell computer. How would I know this?

Mine had been accidentally turned off.

When our General Electric digital camera worked intermittently, I read the manual to rectify the problem but could not, then called customer service and asked to mail the camera back, it seemed defective.

They telephoned, said the camera was tested, not broken and would be returned it to me.

It still worked intermittently.

I went to Radio Shack to buy a new card, and told the sales person my tale of woe. He reinserted the card and return the camera to me saying, “It’s fine.”

Exacerbated I exclaimed, “It wasn’t working a minute ago!” I opened the flap, took out the card, and reinserted it.

The sales person smiled, “It didn’t  click.”

“Didn’t click. What click?” I inquired.

Evidently, the card is not fully in until it clicks.

How would I know that?

Recently my friend,  Christine, of Words etc, solved a few computer issues for me using the help button and restored the notion the help button is helpful.

However using the help button involves viewing the instructions and the annoying list of how to do that, gives me a headache.

  • Cut & paste the seven steps, in word and print the instructions.
  • Memorize seven steps
  • Scribble abbreviations on a scrap of paper
  • Restore down

I have a better solution.

Use two electronic devices, one to view the help instructions and the other to make the changes or corrections.

Since I have a wireless laptop and a kindle fire, I put them side by side.

On the Kindle Fire, type change signature in Yahoo Help and open Yahoo Mail on the laptop.

Now the instructions are in plain view and I can make the changes, no problemo (I’m part Italian).

                                                                ….Just saying

New Year Resolutions In July

images

Half Way There

Aging & Attitude

The Rise & Shine section of the News Journal, informs the reader of the date, the days left in the year and gives a quote.

Today is Tuesday, June 19 the 171st day of 2012 and there are 195 days left in the year.

The quote; “One has two duties – to be worried and not to be worried” by EM Foster a British author (1879-1970)

I worry. We are 171 days into the year and I am nowhere near accomplishing my New Year’s resolutions. Remember, the things we planned to change and have not.

I saw Bubbles at the gym recently. She is not thinner, neither am I.

I have lost and regained the same two pounds many times in the past six months and frequent the gym although, the measurements logged in my journal have not changed. The good news is I am not heavier nor wider.

No, there are not 171 entries in my writing journal even though it was a New Year’s resolution to write every day. There are fifty, well less than forty.

I am moving at a snail’s pace.

How are you doing with those New Year’s Resolutions?

I gave up weeding (number one on the list), but lack a sense of real accomplishment, because I sold the house to do it, literally.

I am eating healthier after attending a Vegan Festival and scared shitless about meat and milk. We eat soymilk, cheese, and margarine. Boca Burgers pass for a real burger. Tofurky has the taste of sausage but the consistency of a hardboiled egg white. The picture shows a recent birthday dinner, cheesy potatoes, kale, and blackened tuna with salsa, quite delicious. Mr. Wonderful raved about the cheesy potatoes made with butternut squash. VegRecipes.org.

It feels like I am taking three steps forward and two steps backwards every day.

However, I am not worried because there are 195 days remaining in 2012 to make those resolutions  happen.

We need a boost, like retail does with a Christmas in July sale.

Why not revisit New Year’s Eve Resolutions in July?

Rather than abandon goals or throw the baby out with the bath water, re-energize, re-organize and re-think strategies.

This is Leap year and there are 366 days in 2012. The 183nd day of the year, halfway to 2013 will be in 13 days or July 2 (for those of you not good in math, trust me).

Rethink failure, join me in celebrating July 2 as “Halfway to Resolution Day”. Forget about fireworks and a big celebration. Sit in a corner, ponder the consequences and let me know.                                                                                           

                                                       ….just saying

(Those exempt from resolution are eligible to comment)