Five years ago today: April 2, 2009, battleship USS North Carolina.
Here’s the tale. I can’t find by telephone or Internet, a foot doctor who accepts my medical. Considering that 38 minutes I was fastracked through emergency for an ace bandage and some super-aspirin rang up to $760, yeah, I want it on my insurance. If so, you may ask, why am I still limping around? Because it has been nearly two weeks and I don’t know how long I may have to conserve the prescription painkiller to find a doctor. It means I’m home, reading. And that’s okay by me.
As par, the e-mails that oppose outnumber the rest six to one. (Equally revealing is that none of my critics are able to punctuate or spell beyond a grade eight level.) That six to one ratio is some type of psychological effect, because we know things are rarely that one-sided in the real world. Meanwhile, the neighbor decided to buy a truck and tow his motorhome back. So, we were right about how expensive them things are.
What’s new? Billie-Bill is out of the hospital. I missed his calls by forgetting my phone on the charger. Jag has not been in touch, so I’ll assume he is busy. I trimmed my e-mails back to those who give enthusiastic responses, stocked up on Russian tea, and worked on a few electronics. And [then I] studied some aspects of electronics beyond the batteries and wires.
One is what I call the “Internet Effect”. This is where an unoriginal “whiz kid” cooks up some lame-brained plan to make money on-line. Except, he lacks the brains. Soon, every topic is turned into a free-for-all at the beginner’s level. The Internet is full of sites who will teach you lesson one, but that’s it. Soon most searches bring up nothing but beginner’s material, even the how-to web pages. It is more lucrative to teach other beginners than to conduct any real research or innovation. Every electronic site I’ve seen so far will teach you how to make an LED flash, as if their flash is better than the others. These droves of rookies clog the pipes and progress stagnates. The “Internet Effect”.
I’m trying to come up with a better term than “whiz kid” that reflects how shallow these people’s knowledge really is and how dependent they are on other’s doing the real work. I’ve never yet met a whiz kid in my 40+ years of experience, at least not on the computer. But there is one kid I’ll offer a half-hearted apology to: Michael Nesmith. That’s the oft-divorced singer from the Monkees. I’ve always felt those who attain youthful success via extraordinarily good family connections are not self-made by any definition.
And Mike’s mother invented white-out typewriter correction fluid. He inherited $25 million bucks. To my knowledge he has never at any time advised his fans of that key element to success. Well, it turns out at the time of his start with the band in 1966 she had not yet made any money off the invention. I just learned about that today. Mind you, within just a few years on his own, Monkees or not, Mike was a near bankrupt and was barely saved by her death in 1980. Other than that, he was self-made.
You see, the 60s were a crazy time. I had not yet learned that talent was not the determinant of victory. Nesmith had money to attend acting school and idle away years chasing arts degrees. Not many people knew that the “stars” of the day were those rich enough to be constantly available near the auditioning studios on short notice. What? You disagree? Then explain Rene Zellweger. But in all, Mike was a founding member of the Monkees and they did sell 65 million records. I’ll grant that despite his cushy upbringing (he was the only bass player I’d ever known of who took lessons), I’ll grudgingly say he was at least somewhat, er, “instrumental” in his own success.
Don’t hit me! Um, t’was the painkillers made me say that joke. Yeah, blame the painkillers.
