A NEWER COMPUTER

I decided on Friday that I would bite the bullet and get myself a PC. I was feeling that I maybe a little too ignorant about this strange new piece of technology, at least strange to me. I have become so use to the Mac and having played a little of some PC’s I still liked my old faithful best. But old faithful is clearly coming to the end of its usefulness. It is close to losing its life. I need to determine where the best location is to bury the poor baby.

My Mac is acting weird. Periodically, little boxes appear in funky places for no reason known to me. When I open my emails, the screen automatically drops to the bottom of the page. No, I don’t know why. It takes a while to get the page to stay at the top so I can get into the new material. The sound now tells me everything it is doing: what is opening, closing, the title, etc. I have turned the sound off because it is so annoying. I mentioned before that I have ruined the screen. It is so scratched up I struggle to read some things, especially in daylight.

I began my search for a computer on the computer. I found the article “The Basics of Buying a Personal Computer” I am only leaving my Mac because of cost. Being on a limited income automatically removes the possibility of upgrading to a new Mac. So here I am, choosing to get a PC computer I would rather not, but am practical enough to know my limits. If I want a newer computer, I must move to a PC. It sucks.

I know what some things mean but “core” was new to me. It was introduced in 2006 and refers to the number of processors in the machine. That was also new. You can get anywhere from one to four processors in the core. I’m still not real clear on why I need more than one, but the more powerful the computer the more cores it needs, I think!

I figured that i3, i5, i7 had do with something getting more powerful or at least costing more. Both are correct. Mine does not say it is i7, but it has four cores. I learned quickly that if I did not buy the latest technology, but one that was just once removed from the current models I could save a pile of money. Often more than 50%, so once I got all my information clearly in mind, I looked for a next step down from brand new.

At Best Buy, the models were clearly separated. I stayed in the second tier aisle. I looked at every computer and managed to determine the 2 or 3 most powerful machines available. All their computers were more economical than two others stores I visited. My kids also told me to check there. I would get the best help with them.

I had pretty much settled on two computers when a woman next to me grabbed a salesman and asked way more questions than had ever crossed my mind. She had this poor guy tied up for twenty minutes or so. I could have easily cut that in half by asking her to stop being so repetitious. That didn’t happen. When she was done and walked way without purchasing anything, all I needed to know was the clear distinction between the one she was interested in and the one next to it. These were my top two choices.

I told him exactly what I wanted to use the computer for and what I thought I needed (wanted): Word, Quicken and a very good graphic program — preferable Photoshop. I didn’t tell him I preferred Photoshop, but he said there was nothing better. However, I would need to upgrade the memory. Well, I didn’t do that and I didn’t buy Photoshop, Word or Quicken. I decided to learn more about this new fangled piece of plastic before going hog wild. I had already decided to work both machines for a while and gradually shift over completely to PC. The computer has a simple modified version of Word (I will need the full program in time). I will purchase Quicken ASAP to keep my finances straight.

My pastor owned and operated his own sign shop and does beautiful graphic work. So I asked him what design programs he used. Photoshop. There is nothing better. He knows what I do and he does not believe I would be satisfied with anything else. He is going to help me get an older version (cheaper). I can then upgrade later, if I need to.

So I came home with HP. My kids came over to help get it set up. I am going to have to get a wireless connection. I had planned to simply switch the Internet connection between the two, but the plug to my desktop is very difficult to reach. If the other costs too much, I may have to relocate my CPU. But I think I would rather sit in my recliner to play on the computer.

I’m slow at getting things up and running fully. It will take time, but then, what else do I have.

FALSE ALARM

I am really not very forgetful, but I did it again. I set off the smoke detector in my apartment. It’s stupid, but I told Martin (our really great maintenance man) that I keep doing it so he will have job security. We all really like him and want to keep him a long time. I set if off so he will have something to do. Many maintenance men have of come and gone and I have only been here three years.

I set it off twice in the first week of Martin being on the job. Then I set if all again within his first month.

You would think this isn’t a big deal, but it is. The alarm can only be turned off from a master control switch locked away that only Martin can enter. He has to be called. No one here has his number, so we have to call the maintenance hotline that then they track him down on his handy-dandy cell phone. At least yesterday he was on the grounds. The second and third time he was off the grounds and it was not during work hours. Once he was with family and the other time I pulled him out of church.

Now the master alarm cannot be shut off until the smoke clears in my apartment so as to stop my personal inside alarm from screaming. I actually caught this problem before the alarm was triggered. I smelled it, jumped up, ran over, turned the exhaust fan back on the stove and throught all was well. No! It was still set off.

The same thing caused my alarm to screech on all four occasions. The first three times I chalked it up to stupidity, carelessness and — lets not get into it. Each time it went off after I finished cooking a meal. I thought I was turning my stove stop top off, but instead I turned it to the highest setting. You would think I would have smelt it in plenty of time. The apartment is small, but sinuses keep me from noticing. This was the first time I caught it before the alarm went off.

There are important procedures to follow when this happens, and it happens often around here. 1) Do not open your door. Initially the alarm is only going off in the apartment where the smoke originates and in the master control room where there is only a beep. In my apartment it is an ear blasting sound designed to make us all deaf. If you open the door and the smoke hits the detectors in the hallways, alarms ring all over the building. Then there should be an evacuation and the fire trucks come automatically. That has happened, but not with me. The irony of this procedure is that no one leaves the building. They go looking for where the problem began. I am sure that if they saw flames they would leave. At least I think they would. Who really knows?

2) One should open all their windows. 3) Turn on all fans. We have one built in the bathroom. I have two other floor models that I quickly put in the windows. It still takes a long time to clear the smoke. In the meantime I was getting a headache, 3) All through the days, others will be asking if you did it, why you did it and then laughing at you, not with you.

Well something different happened after this experience. I told Martin that when I finished cooking my breakfast eggs, I know I turned the switch off. I thought I had done that on all occasions. When I heard the click, I left. Instead of going off, it locked onto the highest heat. Martin and I got playing with the switch and found it to be defective. He is going to change it out. I will have no more excuses.

So there! It wasn’t really my fault and I took all this time to simply say, my smoke detector when off and it wasn’t my fault.” But where’s the fun in that.

NEXT BLOG: I bought a computer

NEVER TO OLD TO LEARN

I went to see my dietician this morning. It’s way cool to have a one on one with someone who can help me get a handle on what to eat and what not to eat. I like that guy who wrote all the books on “Eat This Not That,” but I can’t remember any of that when I’m shopping. I am trying to get better principles stuck in my head, permanently.

I am on a limited salt diet now and all my friends said, “Why don’t you try sea salt, It’s different than real salt.” Ahah! They’re wrong. After today’s meeting all I can say is baloney. They are the same. Sea Salt is just trendy and highly promoted. Sodium is sodium. Sea sale granules are just bigger. There goes that recommendation. Foiled again by people who I call friends.

She gave me a sheet that lists spices that can be paired with various meets. I love that. Now I can add something other than salt and pepper. I like to add a little flavor to my food and this gives me great direction. I have never known what spices work with what foods, and because I don’t want to waste food, I don’t experiment too often. .That has limited me to about a half dozen spices. I can hardly wait to begin the experiments. I don’t know why the hospital or my doctor didn’t help me with this, but I got what I need now. Yeah!

I am a very trusting person. That’s good and bad. I don’t always ask the questions I should. She is in disagreement with my doctor on the number range that should concern me with my sugar count. I have been with three other doctors since I have had diabetes. They all agree with her guidelines. The problem is that when my tests two-hours after supper are under 110, I know they will be between 40 and 70 in the morning or I will be woke in the middle of the night with those low number. If you don’t know, when it gets that low I am dizzy with black spots in front of me. In other words I am getting near to passing out. Whoa! That brought me up short. I always assumed I was doing something wrong. Of course, when I eat after the evening test it is to raise my numbers. I am counteracting any weight lose. That explains a lot.

I am so dumb. I should have dealt with this a long time ago. Maybe my dad was right. “It had better be really serious to go to a doctor. They are just too expensive”. When I was ten or eleven I was cutting the outline of a six shooter (cowboys were big when I was a kid – Roy Roger, Gene Autry, Hop-a-long Cassidy). My parents were not going to buy me a toy gun, but dad was letting me cut one out on the gig-saw and than I was going to shape it with files. My hand slipped and my right thumb hit the blade and bounced off when it got to the bone. Blood was gushing and dad wrapped a rag around it. When the bleeding slowed down he took me inside and cleaned the wound and wrapped it up good. “You’ll be fine.” He was right about that. It healed and I had a cool scare to show my friends. My dad n ever seemed to care whether there were scares as long as I was going to live. He didn’t treat me any different than himself, but I swear he handled pain better than anyone I ever knew. He would dig splinters out with his pocketknife – fortunately, only on himself.

They even took me to a family dentist who did not use anything to deaden pain. He didn’t believe in it. I didn’t know any better. You just gripped the arms and hung on for dear life. I didn’t know there was Novocain until I was married and needed a dentist on my own. Of course, I still hold on for dear life even though there is no pain. Its just habit! But I come out with strained hands and arms from squeezing till I leave handprints in the hard plastic. Those were what old people call “The good old days.” I at least laught about it — now!

It’s amazing what we learn from our youth that hangs on through out life. Some of out habits are pretty strange.

WHAT NEXT

OK, here it is, the latest you should…or you will die. I’ve got bad news for everyone. You are going to die no matter what you eat. I’m already off sugar (he, he), have lowered my salt intake and am trying to avoid fat. You know what happens when you do all that. Your food no longer has any taste. Apparently, if you want to have a long life — eat cardboard. I’ve tasted pizza that I am sure is made of cardboard

Sugar Should Be Regulated As Toxin, Researchers Say

A spoonful of sugar might make the medicine go down. But it also makes blood pressure and cholesterol go up, along with your risk for liver failure, obesity, heart disease and diabetes.

Sugar and other sweeteners are, in fact, so toxic to the human body that they should be regulated as strictly as alcohol by governments worldwide, according to a commentary in the current issue of the journal Nature by researchers at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF).

Oh boy! Am I in trouble! Between the church, the scientists, the doctors and my friends, there is very little I can do. Read on. My old high school friend sent this to me.

IF I CAUSED THE FOLLOWING, I AM VERY SORRY.

BEGINNING 2012

As we progress through the beginning of 2012, I want to thank you for your educational e-mails over the past year. I am totally screwed up now--- have little chance of recovery. 



I can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel, nor let the waitress put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about the bacteria on the lemon peel. 



I can't sit down on a hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed. 



I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one's nose. 



Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years. 



I can't touch any woman's handbag for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public toilet. 



I must send my special thanks for the email about rat poo in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing. 



ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason. 



I can't have a drink in a bar because I fear I'll wake up in a bathtub full of ice with my kidneys gone. 



I can't eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers. 



I can't use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. 



Thanks to you I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. 



Because of your concern, I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. 



I no longer buy fuel without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer doesn't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling up. 



I no longer use Cling Wrap in the microwave because it causes seven different types of cancer. 



And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face, disfiguring me for life. 



I no longer go to the cinema because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS when I sit down. 



I no longer go to shopping centers because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. 



And I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a huge phone bill with calls Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan. 
 


Thanks to you I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big black snake could be lurking under the seat and cause me instant death when it bites my butt. 



And thanks to your great advice I can't ever pick up a dime coin dropped in the car park because it was probably placed there by a sex molester waiting to grab me as I bend over. 



I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off. 



If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, and the fleas from 120 camels will l infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next-door neighbor’s ex mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's best friend's beautician! 



Oh, and by the way...

A German scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse. 

 Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late. 



P. S. I now keep my toothbrush in the living room, because I was told by e-mail that water splashes over 6 ft. out of the toilet.

THE SEARCH FOR A NEW COMPUTER

I don’t think my computer is long for this world. It works — sorta, but it is acting up as bad as a two year old.

I have always been a Mac guy. When I got started with computers I visited a number of stores to try and get a feel for what a computer really was and what it did. More importantly, how did it work and could I work it. You would have thought I crossed the border into some foreign country. I could not understand the language and did not have a book to help me translate. I asked several times if they spoke English and all assured me they did, but then they would launch into this gobble-di-gook that had no relation to the language I knew and understood. It was even worse when they would have me sit in front of a computer and follow the steps as they attempted to explain them. Where is my sledgehammer?

I have never been good with foreign languages and it didn’t take me long to decide I did not have time to return to school and learn this new forked tongue. Frankly, I gave up on computers.

Jim Sellers was pastor of the Portland church at the time and served on the district board. He kept saying, try a Macintosh. Finally he convinced the board to let him get one and bring it in for us to try. He could not have arrived at a worse time. We were working on our district newsletter. We did it the old fashioned way with scissors and glue. Good old cut and paste.

Believe it or not, I took a course in “commercial art” (no called graphic art) at the University of Omaha. My dream was to become an architect, but I thought this would be a great backup plan. I had wanted to be an architect since I was twelve. I bought house plan books while my friend bought comic books. It was OK, I always read their comics. Wouldn’t you know it! I washed out in architecture (but meet a lot of girls in the interior decorating class -only boy in a class of 100). At the same time, the shoe store where I worked asked me to consider management training. If I did, I would have my own store in less than a year in any part of the USA I wanted. Being one who tended to take the path of least resistance, I took that path and abandoned all hope of my eight-year-old dreams.

Obviously God had other plans. Eight months later I left Omaha to experience the great white north — skiing, skating, snowmen, snow forts, etc. I could hardly wait to be in the mountains. Omaha is flat as a pancake.

Omaha is a waffle compared to Saskatchewan. I should have looked that up in some picture book. Every photo I had even seen of Canada included Mountains. I was tricked.

After a few years of confinement in the monastery for the socially ignorant, I went into church work and began using all my U of O training (without extra pay).

I do get off track, don’t I? When Jim brought the Mac in, he sat me down and stayed with me for a couple of days and we produced our Newletter on that little box of a machine. Now having some computer literacy I know I can no longer afford Mac. I want it, but we don’t always get what we want. It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair. Guess what. I have to learn a whole new language AGAIN. I have some better comprehension, but there are too many options. They say, “What components do you require?” How do I know? What can I get that I can move the hundreds of Mac photos and artwork I have on my hard drive and CD’s? Nothing. Huh! You mean it would be like starting all over and rescanning everything? I could not use any of the formats I have saved for future use? WHAT!

So, yes, I am frustrated. I have a couple of speaking engagements coming up and will be able to afford a low-end computer. But I then have to buy programs. At a minimum I need (want) Word and Photoshop. Photoshop will cost more than the computer. I’m stuck. At least I feel stuck. What happened to packing word processing programs with computers?

I am not going to give up. I am reading “Understanding Computers for Seniors”. Helpful. What I really want is for someone to do all the work for me and just tell me what to do. I know that doesn’t work. I’ll keep studying and then find a translator to go shopping with me. I already know that person does not live here. I’ll ask around church.

BOREDOM

It’s been boring around here lately. I went to coffee yesterday and there was nobody there. Well, I was there. It happened again today — and we get a delivery from the food bank today” bread and sweets, always several days old. That is the only thing that keeps me from pigging out. Maybe not the only thing. As I was leaving, one personal arrived. I kept on going. I had already been there 30 minutes.

I blew it on Sunday. I don’t consider that I’m on a diet. I don’t use that word. When I spoke about diet in the past it was only a few days before I shut my mouth because I had fallen off the wagon. When you’re not on a wagon, it is very hard to fall off. While I didn’t fall off the wagon, I changed my eating habit — temporarily I hope.

I really didn’t plan to mess up. I know there have been times in the past that I have planned to abandon all hope, but this time it came from boredom. I don’t usually eat when I’m reading. I hate getting messy fingers all over the book. It smudges the pages and makes it hard to read. That’s the same reason I don’t like to dog-ear my books. I don’t know why this matters to me; I’m really quite sloppy. I’ve got this pile of Christmas decorations still lying on the floor of my bedroom. It would take five minutes to put away, but — I guess I don’t have time.

What a joke. That’s all I do have. The main commodity of retirement is time. But if you listen around, you would never believe it. They are all busy. Everyone but me. I asked a member of the new activities committee if she wanted to ride out to Poulsbo with me to check out where we will be able to park the bus when we take a group there next month. She could not go because she had such a busy day. She had dishes in the sink and needed to clean her apartment. If I were to wash dishes everyday (I don’t), they would be done in just a few moments. For me, I want to make a big deal out of dish washing so I wait until I have no clean dishes left. That way, washing dishes is an important and meaningful task. It’s an event. I need more events in my life.

When I clean house, it is also an event. It takes time because the older I get the less the mess bothers me. I suppose there is something wrong with this picture. I am very aware that cleanliness is next to Godliness. I have been trying to figure out how clean things were in Biblical times. You know, when they lived in the open, or in tents, or houses with dirt floors. I know I have less dirt than a house with a dirt floor. At least I think I do.

Maybe you noticed that I did not finish the story about messing up, messy fingers and what I ate. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. But I made popcorn. I know, I know. Popcorn is a healthy snack. Not always. I love it with real butter and salt. The butter is less of a problem than salt. I must watch my salt intake. I was careful. I didn’t use nearly the amount of salt as in the past. But I could certainly taste it. I even rubbed the edges of the bowl with a few kernels to get every bit of salt I could. Do you know that feeling of having both guilt and joy. It was wonderful. But I will not fail again — At least not for a while.

A friend sent this little note to me and I thought I would pass it along. I liked it.

UP


Read until the end ... you’ll laugh UP a storm. 




This two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that word is ‘ UP ’. It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv], [prep], [adj], [n] or [v].





It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election (if there is a tie, it is a toss UP) and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car. 





At other times, this little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is blocked UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! 





To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with (UP to) a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out, we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it soaks UP the earth. When it does not rain for a while, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I’ll wrap it UP, for now . . . my time is UP! Oh . . . one more thing:

Did that one crack you UP? Don’t screw UP. Send this link to everyone you look UP in your address book . . . or not . . . it’s UP to you. 



Now I’ll shut UP!

THOSE WILD EMOTIONS

I love to see genuine, uncontrollable emotion. I love it in all forms. Uncontrollable laughter. Unbridled enthusiasm. Profound grief without anger, and emotion that wells up in your throat and stops the words.

It’s been a long time since laughter has taken total control. Maybe I have seen too much and heard too much, but I miss that surprise that sends me into laughter than makes my eyes water and nose run (strange mixture). You see unbridled enthusiasm at sports events and you will see it on Super Bowl Sunday. But it is an incredible gift in the eyes of a child when grandpa tells them he is taking them to Disneyland. Grief in its purest form is a tribute to love. The tears flow and cannot be stopped as the loss is so profound. C.S. Lewis expressed it this way, “We hurt so much because we loved so much.” Then there is the emotion that sneaks up on you and catches you by surprise.

If you remember the old telephone commercials produced before cell phones and we were all tied to land lines. When I went off to college mother told me to write often but don’t call unless it was an emergency. Phone calls were too expensive. So, many did not make too many calls and we all tried to avoid the long distance calls, especially if money was tight. Those 30-60 second commercials got me in the tear ducts every time. “He called home.” That’s the right phrase. It was usually a son calling his mother. We are the neglectful ones, rarely the daughters.

I love it when it happens in church. It tells me the speaker feels this very deeply. It has touched his or her heart. It catches them on a level they did not expect and they communicate that response on a level deeper than words can express. That happened to my full loving, happy-go-lucky, exuberant pastor this morning and I heard his heart deeper than ever before.

When I speak I can rarely get though a talk without that happening to me. There are times I wish it didn’t happen. There are times I am embarrassed because I didn’t expect it would happen. It usually comes in connection with a story. For me it has to do with talking about my family.

That is not the only times, of course. Either my tear ducts are getting bigger or I am becoming a big bag of sentiment. When I got home from church and prepared lunch I sat down to eat and watch TV. I turned on pair’s figure skating. The couple they just introduced were third or fourth after the short program and not expected to climb above second. Everything was great as they started and they just got better and better and more perfect as they went. When it was over they were embracing unbridled joy and my tears rejoiced with them. Then when they won I gulped a few times trying to stop the water works. If I counted all the times in a day that my emotions bring me to a tear or two there would be a dozen on more.

Before our pastor spoke I was about to take the offering with a mother and her seven or eight year old son working with her. The pastor acknowledged the “usher in training.” And used it to talk about all of us using our time to step in. He then asked the boy if he wanted to pray for the offering and much to the pastor’s surprise, he said yes. Tears instantly came to my eyes. It was touching and beautiful. He had one very proud mom, and there was a very proud congregation as well.

I got caught with a lump in my throat a few more times in that figure skating program. I even ached with each fall. A few weeks back my granddaughter played in a semi-final soccer match. If they won they advanced to the finals. The teams were tied at the end of regulation time and she had scored both points for her team. There was a shoot out to determine the winner. Five players for each team would take turns kicking. Grace was first. She missed, as did the next nine. The final shot was by the opposing team and she hit the mark. That was a good reason to cry with her. Weep with those who weep.

But here’s the kicker. I was watching NCIS Miami tonight. A routine program, but two potential suspects were twins separated at birth. The victim was their sperm donor dad and both had contact with him. One needed his birth dad for a liver transplant. Both families were at the station and at the end both were put in the same van together for a ride home. I know it was written to make us feel this way, but you could see it in the eyes of the health one. He knew he could save the life of his before unknown brother. They got in the van and are looking at one another and the door closes and the program ends. I cry. It’s s dumb TV program. Nothing is real. It’s pretend and I still cry for the dying boy and the healthy one’s growing love for his brother.

Get a grip. I must have been saving up tears for years because they pour out for the least little thing. It was a TV show I was barely watching. I was trying to read a compelling book at the same time. I barely knew what was happening, but that moment got me. We are emotional beings. I love that about people. I could do without the anger, but its all part of the package that God gave us all. We just have different amounts of each. Anybody want some of my tears?