One year ago today: January 21, 2025, he didn’t fire enough.
Five years ago today: January 21, 2021, my favorite window ever.
Nine years ago today: January 21, 2017, some DMV facts.
Random years ago today: January 21, 2013, Chinatopia.
This is the day, the turning point in life, the news we knew was inevitable. As ever, I’ll report the day and you can fill in the blanks. This afternoon answered some questions, but there is no question any iota of physical or cerebral youth is gone. After a traditional breakfast, coffee grits and eggs, JZ and I went over the past year and what plans have changed. JZ figures into the plans because he has the only convenient place we can crash without getting in anybody’s way. What could go wrong?
The problem is, after they finally get insurance, they still delay. That’s where JZ is at, he not only had a bad stroke, he downplays the seriousness of the consequences. I know if one of us took a fall, the other could not help him up. We made it to the Pinecress library, but once again Google blocked my accounts—can’t open the blog without a code sent to an addy I can’t open without a code. So I glanced at silver, just passed $94. We know something will go wrong, ha!
The only snap I have for you this morning is the KIA parked outside Publix. JZ shops at the most expensive place in his city. I’m avoiding mentioning my impending gloom over this afternoon’s probably outcome. Imagine, the scans of my heart showed no irregularity because my whole heart was irregular. Wait, I have one more graphic for you, from last day at the car auction.
Across the way was a wrecking yard, so while waiting, I zipped over (with as much zip as I could muster) to see about the part for my broken van door handle. All that did was confirm nobody has that for my particular model. You’ve heard of junk yard dogs, so I got you this junk yard cat. So there, don’t say I’m not at least trying and at least I’m not crying.
Abandoned Elkmont, TN
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
After a 95 minute drive the 33 miles to the clinic, the news is all bad. One reason none of my heart tests did not show contrasts was because there wasn’t any—the problem is my whole heart. It needs a complete rebuild. Two doctors including the head guy himself went over my charts four times. There was even a video that looked like my heart dyed purple, but I don’t know. Stents are no longer an option, I require quadruple bypass surgery. You got triple? Rookie, I got quad.
My ticker is plain worn out, past the best-before date. This operation has a historical 50% chance of survival. I’ll have the best treatment money can buy so I don’t get the procedure, my odds are 0%. I was in the clinic for two hours and the operation is slated for next week. If this blog disappears, that means it is bye-bye. But be patient, I no longer have any Internet access in south Florida.
The libraries in Miami-Dade now demand Florida ID and proof of residency, and they are real AOLs about it. Picture ID scans. I asked about a guest pass, they still want ID and a fee. If you don’t like fat, stupid housewives flapping their jowls, stay away from the library staff. They do not understand that “public library” is a legal term and if I have to pay $38 for a something, there is nothing “guest” about it.
And one more thing. I do not know of even one person in Florida who could do more on the Internet than hunt and peck. In my semi-wide circle of people, there is not a single serious user. The most tech-savvy would be Agt. M, who must use the Internet every day. He could not adjust his thermostat, start his car, or unlock the church door otherwise. Andyou know something? He was unable to look up the price of silver last day.
Half of the big wall in his living room is TV, but there is no connected mouse or keyboard. To move the cursor requires the TV remote, which is very slow. To move to the lower right, where most conclusion buttons are located, takes an agonizing amount of time, aggravated by how the remote can only up and down, it cannot move the arrow diagonally.
Yet, he is the most advanced user I know. Let me explain the big issue. I first used a computer 52 years ago, and I learned all serious users must type or get left behind. In those days, there was no packaged software. You bought a book of code printouts and carefully typed in maybe 60 pages of commands. If you did not touchtype, you would still be entering and debugging that code 10 years later when Gates came along. To anyone too young to remember, you had to buy the whole book to get that one program you wanted.
The trick was to buy the pirated EEE at a third the price. That’s the “Eastern Economic Edition”, that is, printed in India on tissue paper. I’m not making this up, in the early days after you key-entered a thousand lines of code, you didn’t need instructions on using it.
My point being how typing is pretty much a prerequisite, even today, for meaningful interaction with a computer. You might think after five decades, I would belong to an elite fellowship of like-skilled users with whom to consult and network. You’d be wrong. In the 25 years I’ve been in Florida, I’ve never socially met anyone who can type.
But I have met innumerable people who rate themselves power users. That’s the bunch who use Apple laptops to check their e-mail and pretend they don’t spend most of their other on-line hours watching porno. I mean, seriously, what else can you do with a computer when you cannot type? That’s a rhetorical question, I don’t want to know.
So telling me those who cannot type are productive users is a lot like telling me my brother knows how to read textbooks. You are probably correct, but I'd largely be taking your word for it.
There, I am in a super poor mood after this afternoon. I stopped at the Captain’s for a beer and did not stay. It is now less pub with food and more a restaurant that serves beer. Remember, GenXers, if you sit at a booth and eat food, it makes you not just another dumb drunk. I learned that from Hank, the shrink. It’s somehow classy to be a slobbering sot if you write poetry for a living. Most of the place was people around my age and I had nothing in common with them.
