If the cheerful Pollyanna were given the task of comparing the manufacturers’ claims about electrical power supplies, and power-using devices, to measurable reality, by day’s end she would have hardened into a cynic and by week’s end might well have become a heavy drinker.
The last decade, we’ve been told we have to speak — and speak loudly — or we’re the bad guys. And, of course, say what the mob says or we’re still the bad guys. But silence is often more profound.
The word hadn’t entered my mind for at least half a century and I have no idea why it did the other day. It’s an odd word, one most people don’t hear often if ever. I wondered if it were some made-up family thing. It had daily use (well, nightly use) in our house as I was growing up.
It had been a while since I purchased access to Fox Trump Channel. Given how flagrantly the president has been displaying what in any other context would be criminal insanity, I was hankering to learn how far he would go before the sycophantic channel would notice. (Very far, as it turns out, but that’s not what we’re here to consider today.)
Some big changes are underway in the personal computing world and if you do home or office computing it behooves you to pay attention to them. In some respects they may return us to the industry we last knew in the previous millennium.
There used to be an old woman who stood every day in the center of the sidewalk on the north side of 42nd Street west of Grand Central in New York City.
Heat is awful, humidity makes it worse, and deathly stillness renders it just about insufferable.
The other night my neighbor was standing on his porch. He blew a smoke ring. Next morning, it was still there, though the morning fog had made it soggy so it had sunk to the ground.
When the numerous officials in the current administration are put on trial (and, one hopes, convicted and subjected to draconian punishments), their pre-trial fears ought to include that the jury that will judge them is made up of coffee drinkers.
Everything considered, it was inevitable. If there’s any surprise, it’s that it hadn’t happened before now.
Then again, maybe it had.
My father died 21,550 days ago, and I still don’t really have him figured out.
If you do the arithmetic and remember leap year days, you’ll find that it works out to 59 years.