In front of city hall along Cesar Chavez Street, the sky was blue, the sun was warm, faces were smiling, and cars were honking as they drove by signs held in the air.
Google Him
Tue, 11 Oct 2011, 07:42 PM (-06:00)
I said something about John Brown. I said it with an air of excitement so as to make others sit up.
Later, I got a note that asked, “Who is John Brown?”
My reply was terse: “Google him.”
In an instant, my response was on its way. I’d had a long, bad day, and what I said amounted to, “Look it up yourself.” Except…
Except after that quip was on its way, and perhaps even before it arrived at its destination, it occurred to me that perhaps (and this is not an unlikely explanation) perhaps they didn’t know what “Google him” means. Perhaps, I thought, my answer might be nothing more than gibberish.
It sent a shiver down my spine.
I imagined myself sitting in a comfy chair years hence struggling to keep up with all those new-fangled toys that everyone seems to use. I imagined myself comfortable in my chair, satisfied with the old toys I have, needing no new ones. I imagined feeling as if the cool kids were all talking about stuff I didn’t understand and yet everytime I asked for help they replied in tongues. I imagined myself asking that very question, “Who is John Brown?” and having the reply sent back to me that said … “Farfinargle him.”
And so it will happen. One day I will pay dearly for this snippiness. It will all be served back at me just the way I served it out. And with that frightful vision staring at me from the future, I am forced to confess belatedly, “I am sorry.”
Alan Grayson Kapow!
Sun, 9 Oct 2011, 01:10 PM (-06:00)
They might have driven Alan Grayson out of the House, but he certainly hasn’t shut up.
Poor P. J. O’Rourke.
Goldeneye
Sun, 9 Oct 2011, 01:02 PM (-06:00)
The hardier-than-hardy Goldeye that Bill gave me years ago have been pacing themselves thru this parched summer waiting for the rain. Finally last night it came.
So now this:
Front yard, back yard, side yard, too. Blooming Goldeneye to illuminate October. Thank you, rain.
Rain
Sun, 9 Oct 2011, 12:13 PM (-06:00)
1. Last Night
Something woke us in the middle of the night. Strange sounds outside. A muffled swooshing-swishing. We sat up, listening intently but seeing nothing in the dark.
“Is that rain?”
We dashed to the door and looked out. Indeed it was rain. Beating hard on the roof. Gushing out the downspouts. It came in waves. Torrential for a while, then drizzling, then in coming down hard again.
2. This Morning
I worked in the yard this morning. Picking up fallen sticks and stuff. Taking scraps to the compost pile. Kicking fire ants off my feet. The ants are as happy as we are.
I worked out there in the cool air with soft ground underfoot, and I could feel the trees smiling. Like my mother does, I could feel the trees smiling and feel them drinking deeply and feel them breathing in the fragrant air.
Not Complaining
Sat, 8 Oct 2011, 07:33 PM (-06:00)
The fair and industrious Trudy is painting, again. One by one, the interior walls are falling to her brush.
“Can you deal with Guinness?” she asked me. “He barking right in my ear while I paint.”
So I called his name using the magic word “walk” and picked up his leash, and we headed out the door.
Dark clouds had been scudding across the sky all day. It had even drizzled a bit in the morning. Now it was overcast and windy.
When we came to the corner where one path lead to the school and the other turned down the road, we stood for a moment. Just then rain started falling again—not a drizzle, this, but a real rain with big drops that made smacking sounds as they hit the ground. We were getting wet.
Guinness shook.
I looked at the overhang by the elementary school and briefly considered taking refuge over there. But we took the other path instead, because we had not been that way for a long time. We walked the long way around the block as the rain came down and the street gutters filled with fast flowing water.
We were soaked when we got home, but we both had smiles on our faces—he for the walk and I for the rain.
Frankly, that rain wasn’t even close to being enough. I know that if I were to go outside and stir the leaves at the base of the trees, the dirt would be bone dry. We need weeks and weeks of rain like that.
But I’m not complaining. And neither did Guinness.
Thank You, Steve
Wed, 5 Oct 2011, 10:10 PM (-06:00)
The professor wheeled a cart into the room. There was a monitor and a keyboard on top and a computer on the lower shelf that had a computer inside. He showed us examples of programs that his students had been writing—small programs written to solve small problems, because they had to run on a small machine, a machine so “small” that it fit on the bottom shelf of that cart.
I remember on that day in that classroom telling myself, “This is something I need to learn about.” And within a few months I started reading about computers to figure out if I should buy one and if so what.
The research took months. There were Commodores and Sinclairs. There were Cromemcos and Ataris. There were Radio Shack TRS-80s and Apple IIs. And there was a new boy on the block: the IBM PC. It was a question of what computer and what operating system and whether or not to buy a dot matrix printer and maybe a 300-baud modem. And in the end, I decided that they cost too much.
Then came Macintosh. Quite literally, my life has not been the same since.
Thank you, Steve. Thank you.
On the Bridge
Mon, 3 Oct 2011, 07:58 PM (-06:00)
photo by Eric Hart: Peace (For more of his photos see eqqman’s flickr photostream.)
The Bank Down the Street
Mon, 3 Oct 2011, 07:28 PM (-06:00)
1. Down on the Corner
There’s a bank on the corner just down the street. It has a spacious lobby, lanes of drive-up tellers, a fancy building with tinted windows to resist the grueling heat of the summer. And its grounds are dying.
The grass and the bushes and the trees around it are dying at an alarming rate. They are dying and being cut down and dug up and carted off so that the destruction isn’t too obvious. But they can’t cart them off fast enough. Two weeks ago it was a Red Oak in front. Then a Live Oak on the side. Now it’s a Cedar Elm and the shrubbery lining the front.
This paragon of American culture. This solid institution. This bastion of western economics and pinnacle of western thought. This guiding light. This mechanism for growth and expansion and wealth…
Everything’s around it is dying.
2. Out by our Street
Step outside with me, won’t you?
Come with me and let me show you our Monterey Oak. While the trees fall at the bank down the street, look at this one. Look at the green leaves, at the new growth now that the temperatures have dropped. Look at the mulched landscape at at the base of the young trunk. And look at that soaker hose lying there in the bark and leaves.
Once a week is more than enough. It doesn’t take much time. It doesn’t cost that much.
It’s our little investment in the future. You’d think the bankers would know about that kind of thing. Evidently not.
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