jumpingfish

Yesterday was my birthday.

At 5:30 in the morning, the fair and industrious Trudy rolled over and asked if I was ready. I was not. You see, I have been mortally exhausted night after night for weeks, and that early in the morning, all I could muster was a pathetic mumble (without even opening my eyes).

An hour later, she could stand it no longer and turned on the bright lights of our rejuvenated bedroom, and she held an envelope in front of my face. It was a card with a dog and cat on the cover and a folded piece of paper inside. I read the cards and her gentle words and then unfolded the paper. And there was an 8×10 photo of my beautiful wife smiling from a seated position in a kayak… a bright red kayak… my birthday present. Oh my gosh. What more could I ask?

Wait. There is also a paddle on the way — a Werner paddle. Oh, what more could I ask?

But wait. A letter had arrived in the mail from the Great White North the day before. It contained birthday and anniversary greetings and a generous contribution to the house rejuvenation fund that we have drained over the last six months. What more could I ask?

But wait, there was more. That evening, Trudy and Ben took me out to eat. I got to pick the place — Threadgills. You see, my sense of taste has been returning, and savory foods have been tasting… oh so savory. So there we were, staring at a menu of comfort foods. With great relish and anticipation I ordered chicken-fried chicken and mashed potatoes and cream gravy and corn off-the-cob. And then I ordered seconds on the mashed potatoes. And then I ordered a slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie. And then I ordered it à la mode. What more could I ask?

But wait, there is more. This afternoon I get home, and a box is waiting for me. “Get a grip!” it says on a note at the top, and when I look further, there is a box of clamps. I mean, like a box of many, many clamps. Because… well, you know, you can never have too many clamps. What more could I ask?

But wait, there is still more. I come into the study and sit down, and there’s an ecard from a friend from years ago. A green field against a blue sky with white, airy dandelion seeds blowing in a gentle breeze and rising into the air and then flapping away as white birds on the wing.

And there were also other greetings from afar. 

I tell you, I will not ask for anything more, for these will all last me a very long time.

The sun shined and the wind blew again today. Still, the ultimate women were out on the fields from before 9:00 to just before 5:00. Here are some closing shots of two them. The funniest thing… even though they wore different jerseys, they seemed to know each other.

Obama was in town the other day for the annual rite of the techno-hip. In keeping with my arm-chair, marginally-informed analyses of the last few days, I have some comments about a comment he made about the FBI’s effort to force Apple to fabricate a security backdoor.

Our President said, “We can’t fetishize our phones above other values.”

I’ve sat on that statement for several days. And now, I wish to try out that same reasoning in some different circumstances, just to see how the analytical technique holds up…

We can’t fetishize our banks above other values.

We can’t fetishize guns above other values.

We can’t fetishize the right to a jury of your peers above other values.

We can’t fetishize the right to vote above other values.

We can’t fetishize the right to remain silent above other values.

Do any of these statements make sense? No, they don’t.

This, in my humble opinion was simply an effort to trivialize the issue. To short-circuit informed thought. To radiate a false aura of balance. To play on fear. And to smear anyone who believes in encryption as a fetishist.

For what it’s worth, this page by Bruce Schneier has some pointers to non-arm-chair analyses of the same issue, and this article by Susan Crawford bluntly summarizes why the law is clear on this topic.

Before I leave, there was this: