Boomer Really Looks at Gen Z, and Likes What He Sees

Inter-generational friction for me started with the Millennial's.  Lately it was focused on Gen Z. I am a Boomer. We Boomers dropped in and did not tune out. We Boomers were the generation that shut down 'the' [Vietnam] War. We figured out the Communist Domino Theory was a lie, much to the fear and consternation of our elders.

We Boomers fixed Racial Inequality. We demonstrated so Women and Minorities had Equal Rights. We had the first oil crisis, Bay of Pigs, and Nukes. We had, "the pill" and we knew how to use it. We burned the Bra.

We didn't sit down, and we didn't shut up. We questioned authority. We broke many of the 'older' generation's taboos. We had the first female Rock Star, first female serial Bank Robber. We invented and ingested LSD, imported Cocaine and used a lot of it. We had a lot of firsts. Some good, many not so much.

We were taught that once you hit the age of eighteen, you found a job, and started planning on how soon you could move out of the house. Preferably within a few months. We were: a free love dove generation, ingesting mass quantities of liquor and drugs - as we learned to from our parents. We were loyal, working dead end jobs for crap pay. That's what we were taught to do. Unlearning was mostly unheard of.

We married and had kids, God help them. In my forties, I started to expand my world view, which was slipping in through the cracks and slats of my awareness. I saw subtle and not so subtle hints that we, the Boomers, did not really do all that much to change the world for the better. We could and should have done a lot more.

Now, past sixty, it is obvious that as a generation, we were very naive as to what we could and could not accomplish. We put out some small fires and solved a few issues (got rid of the [military] draft, for one) but the paranoid out of touch, scared, decrepit political engine kept stirring the pot ensuring old fires started up again and other fires grew larger.

All in all I am disappointed with what we did accomplish verses what I thought we accomplished. I had blinders on, it was difficult to see our countries general reality. That is not to say, we were worthless. We did make many changes, and I am proud of those changes. But my world was not really all that rosy as you will read later.

Our Kids, what the heck? Only interested in money, little public opinion, distant, indifferent to government. Distant to the extent that their kids (Gen Z) were mostly self raised. Keep Tommy and Kathy busy. Throw more money at them. Don't bother spending actual time with them. Let them learn independence by growing up mostly alone and distant. Throw more electronics at them so parents could be even more distant and aloof.

Which brings me to Gen Z. What a wreck Gen Z is, lazy, unmotivated, happy living in the basement, socially crippled. Or so it seems, reading the stories published from far right side of Boomer Mountain. Old scared, paranoid people who make it sound like the world is going to hell in a hand basket (the one they created and nurture of course).

I let go of public Gen Z commentary, and my myopic sliver of it. Just like us Boomers, I find most of Gen Z has ambition. Lots of ambition. They want to and do work. Most of them are working as hard as we Boomers did. 

Gen Z is not blind and overly loyal to foolish, outdated, common ideals. Comments that are repeated like gospel are, Gen Z is lazy and living in their parents basement. Some of us Boomers walked out on their pregnant girlfriends and after the babies were born, other Boomers moved in with them and leached off of them, living on the States dime (welfare), slinking away and hiding during home inspections. No beer for you!

We Boomers wasted our money on frivolous things. Boomers spent money on sex, drugs and rock and roll and muscle cars. Some Boomer's of course were taught to be greedy and/or racist. Many Boomers were blue collar, economically ignorant, and indifferent to their plight. That's how it always is...

Now with opened eyes, having moved down the hill from Boomer Mountain, I have made comparisons of our respective generations. One thing is clear, Gen Z is not willing to work itself to death for starvation wages. A job is only a job, and life balance is more important. Gen Z also learns from the Internet, as needed.

Gen Z is willing to put off some personal gratification/satisfaction until a later date, and most importantly, it appears Gen Z is not generally in favor of drinking and drugs. Finally, unlike the parents of us Boomers and our kids, children are precious and not something you have just because you got married at a stupid young age, made nuclear family, and spent the next decades regretting it.

I can hardly wait until Gen Z starts flexing its political muscle. I am curious what changes they will set in place once the old paranoid, scared people making today's polarizing policies are out of the picture.

Why We Diet, Exercise, Learn, and Try

 

I was thinking this morning about all that 'formal' exercise I have done all my life, and why I did all that exercise. That led me to think about the lifestyle changes I made in my twenties and thirties, as I realized as I went along each day, what I was doing was not that healthy. 

- - It is hard to break away from the pack. Everyone wants you to be like they are. People are resistant to change. Especially when they watch someone else change and they do not want to.

I thought about who I did all that exercise for. It was not for me in the moment, as I was doing the exercise without any real kind of work. I mean I strained and sweated, and occasionally had some sore muscles, but it was not the back breaking work that some people were doing just to survive another day.

I am free rolling now. Why have I been so curious all my life? Why did I take college courses? Why am I fascinated by body, health and lifestyle discoveries that show up in books, magazines and web pages? Why do I read really boring articles in some really boring magazines?

What is the purpose of all this? Why do I do it? No one I know wants to hear about it. There was nothing to be gained from climbing out of bed in my thirties and doing my little exercise routine and then going jogging. I did those things every other day, and I did not improve my exercise and running skills. But I never really thought about why I did those things.

Until this morning that is. It is a few minutes after seven and the sun is shining. I fell asleep sometime after two last night, and I woke up a little after five. I'll probably take a nap again today. Such is the life of old.

But I also did some other things. In these early hours, I have done some interesting reading, worked on some puzzles, and had something to eat. Later on I will do my little 2023 exercise routine, which is vastly different from my 1980, 1990, 2000, and my 2010 exercise routines.

I am a firm believer in the phrase, "Use it or lose it". It was not until this morning however that complete understanding of this little phrase made it into my conscious mind.

Everything diet, exercise and health related I have done in my life was not for me in the moment. Not even for me in the next week or the next month. All the goofy things I tried to improve myself with, all the diet information I read, tried and sometimes failed at, all the other things were not for me in the moment. 

I realize this morning, I did all those thing for me right now in 2023. More importantly they were for my future me. I grew up watching family members and other adults drink and smoke themselves into an early grave. I watched as people decide they are 'old' because they are 40, 50, 60, or seventy. I made decision after decision I was not going to be one of those people. 

I spent the early years of my life doing these things because I wanted a full, happy, and productive life. Today I know it was not for me then, but for a future me. I am not through yet, there is a lot more future me to come.

There is more future me out there waiting to be realized. And because I am old, I see the sad results others have made of not taking care of themselves for their future selves. We all have some limitations in our life, health and otherwise. Until we die, we have a future.

It is our obligation to minimize our limitations and maximize ourselves, because we must be ready to become our future selves. I notice in the moment, thinking about what version I want for my future self, is exhilarating. I am motivated to do those things I can do today for the benefit of my future self tomorrow. How about you?

Someone's In My Head, and it's Not Me

 

Sometimes, a thought appears in my head that I did not conceive. I like to think it comes from an Angelic source sent on a mission, but like everything else, beauty, or in this case the source of these thoughts, is in the eye of the beholder. The thoughts that appear in my mind are always of a positive nature, always directed toward strangers,  and not meant for me other than acting them out. At times there is a voice with the thought, always a male voice. Once in a great while, there is a two way conversation about the, ‘thought’.

An example of a two way conversation happened a few weeks ago. I was wondering why, when I play poker I am not luckier when it comes to being dealt more playable hands? I know I am a solid player, and for the most part I play well. My thinking in my head is, ‘why do I spend an hour at a time completely card dead, get dealt one winning hand and go back to being completely card dead’?

Suddenly, my thinking is interrupted by the ‘Voice’ in my head. The Voice asks me, “Why should you be dealt more playable hands?” It was spoken in a non-committal, level voice. A very good question I thought, why should I be dealt more….

After thinking about it, I reply, to start with I believe I am a good person. I rarely intentionally do anything that would hurt another person, either emotionally or physically. I like to think I am a generous person. I do those things a generous person would do. A portion of my winnings always go improving someones lot in life, though temporarily. There was a response in the form of a small chuckle, but no other reply.

Today, there are five of us out for lunch. One of the the five is a notoriously cheap person, (NCP). They take out their calculator to determine the precise tip, and adjust from their answer using their perception of the quality of the meal and service they received, generally down. The other three are fairly normal people and I am the fifth person. I am paying for three of us.

As we sit waiting for our food, a table next to us is cleared, and three “First Responders” are seated at the table. I am in conversation with our group paying no further attention to them. Then, almost like squeezing toothpaste out of the tube, a thought forms in my mind, “You should buy their lunch.”  Out of nowhere I can see these words in my mind as if they are written in black ink on white paper, ‘...You should buy their lunch...’.

Because I trust this whatever it is that plants these ideas in my mind and the occasional voice that goes with it, I tell the Waiter, I wish to pay for the Three Responders lunch, but please do not tell them I bought their lunch. He brings me their check and says our secret is safe. After a few minutes I go to the cashier, pay their bill, and return to the table.

We are eating our meal, and suddenly one of the First Responders is standing by me with his hand out. He says, “Thank you very much for buying our lunch, we really appreciate it”. Of course I am caught completely by surprise, and mumble something to the effect that, ‘I really appreciate what you do, and how important it is’. All true, but poorly stated. He leaves and the other two First Responders walk buy mouthing their appreciation for what I did for them too. So much for Secret Santa buying someones lunch.

As we get up to leave, one of my group who saw the interaction asks me what that was all about, and why was he shaking my hand? I explained what I did as we walked to the cashier. The bill was all one check, as the Waiter said the Cashier would split it up for us. My brain was suddenly fogged up, and it was very difficult to come up with my share of the bill, starting with the entrees.  I mumbled to the Cashier what items I was paying for (meals for three of us), but forgot to add my coffee, and an Iced Tea. I pay, get my change and step back.

Behind me, NCP tells the Cashier what they were paying for. The Cashier asks, “And the coffee?”. NCP looks at me, and states, “I am not paying for your coffee.” I  pull out four dollars for the coffee, and give it to NCP. They pay their bill, plus my coffee, and pocket the (my) change.

The third person shows up to pay their portion and was asked, “And the Iced Tea?” Oh oh. Man, my brain is asleep, what is going on! Forgetting my coffee and the iced tea, when the rest had water and I am looking right at the bill? However, they generously insisted on paying for the Iced Tea I was supposed to pay for. I am feeling pretty sheepish in the moment. And generally stupid. What is going on with my brain?

Now, the interesting part of this story is happens. NCP, who refused to pay for my coffee is told by the Person who paid for the iced tea what I had done, buying lunch for the three First Responders, and saying, “Why don’t I ever think of doing that?”

It did not dawn on me until an hour or so later, the whole scenario was manifested and directed by the voice in my head as a lesson for the NCP, who was told right after refusing to pay for my coffee, that I had paid for the three First Responders meals. I am now curious if they get the not so subtle hint to be a little more generous?

I find this whole situation fascinating. I like to think the voice in my head is an Angel or something like it. It is always a too random an occurrence, and something I am not thinking about, when it happens. It is usually something I never or rarely do, so I know it is not invented and directed by me. In this story as usual, I play a major character in a short skit, not of my creation.

I do hope this happens to other people, and they follow through on these thoughts too. It would be sad to think I am the only person aware of this happening, and going along with what is suggested. It seems to make the world a much better place.

FWIW, nothing has changed with my poker playing cycle of cards.

Do Fear Based Drug Billboards Accomplish Anything Positive?

If you are not addicted to chemicals, do you really want to see billboards like this?

Unless you work for the, "Drug Enforcement Agency", and want to drum up business to keep your paycheck coming, what is their purpose?

These billboards are mostly pointless. These billboards are not educational, they serve no uplifting purpose. Do you really wish to see these billboards or can you get through your day live without seeing them?

Let's put our Tax Dollars to better use. Let you Legislatures know how you feel.

Tuna Salad Sandwich Hack

This is a simple little hack to help you make your next batch of Tuna Salad fast and easy.

If you are like me, when making Tuna Salad, you open a can of Tuna and dump it into a bowl. Then you take a fork, spoon, whatever your favorite utensil is and mash it up. Then add your favorite ingredients.

An easier way, to prepare the Tuna Fish is this:

1. Open and drain your favorite can of Tuna Fish.

2. Using a butter knife cut the Tuna Fish in the can as if you were slicing a small cake into many square pieces.

2. Use the the knife to scoop out the Tuna into a bowl. Almost all the Tuna has been cut and crumbled into small pieces, saving you time and frustration.

3. Add your favorite ingredients for the fastest and easiest Tuna Salad you have made all week. Enjoy!

Underfunded and Outgunned by the Bealer Boys

 It's hard playing poker against the Bealer Boys. I played against them for a second time this weekend. The game is $1 - $3 No Limit. The Small Blind is $1 and the Large Blind is $3. Buy-in is $100 - $300 or half the largest stack on the table. Easy Game.

Except when you sit down with the Bealer boys. The Brush calls you to a table and you realize if you took out all the hundred dollar bills in your wallet and both pockets, you still would not have enough to buy in at half the largest stack on the table for this game.

Tonight is a prime example. I sit down with John Bealer on my right. Now, I am not sure how long John Bealer was been playing today, but he has roughly $2,400 in $5 and $25 chips (red and green) in front of him. So much for the $300 max buy-in. So much for buying in for half the largest stack.

In the moment, I wonder if its even worth sitting down at the table. But these are the Bealer Boys, and it doesn't look and feel right to stand up and walk away. I may not have much of a poker image, but it is important to maintain what little image I do have as a poker player.

There is this extra natty little thing called the "Straddle", which at this table is done on the button by all players, except me. The Straddle is a Preflop raise on the button, effectively raising the first bet from $3 to $6, starting with the small blind.

To make matters worse, the smallest stack among the Bealer Boys is a little over $1,200. Preflop betting is generally $20 to $35, or roughly a little less than ten percent of my buy-in. This makes the price of poker pretty steep for me, just to see a flop.

One would expect with high $ Preflop betting, there would only be a few players in the pot. No, not when playing with the Bealer Boys. The game is loose. Except for me, everyone is loaded up and hunting for bear. Preflop pots were running $100 and over. Flop and turn bets are moderate considering, as the table is so loose.

Three rounds in and I have only paid my blinds, throwing away junk and playable hands (in a normal game) alike. I am wondering about the sanity of my judgment to sit at this table. This is a $1 - $3 table converted into $6 - $12 by the Bealer Boys, with their excessively large stacks. Any hand I may enter, any one of them could put me all in preflop, just for laughs.

After about ninety minutes of throwing away hands and watching pots dragged in by pitiful holdings, I finally get a hand. I have Q,Q in late position. When the play gets to me, it's $35 to see the flop; with three players in the pot before me, I call the $35.

Flop is Ks, 8d, 3h. Good flop for me. First player checks, second to act, Billy Bealer puts out $105. A strange bet I think. I've played with Billy Bealer before and he is generally a straight forward player with little bluffing in his bag of tricks. After contemplating a few seconds, I put Billy Bealer on K,K or better, which makes my Q,Q look smaller than it did a few seconds before the flop. I fold, last to act folds.

I'm down about 25% of my buy-in, or just a little over $100 now. I can see the end in sight and it's not pretty. I will be all in on my next hand, if there is a next hand on the way.

Enjoyment is turning into agony. I lament all the hands I would have played, if it was a normal $1 - $3 game and not a high stakes franken-game. I am in small blind and miracle of miracles, there was not a button straddle. I am second to last to act. By some freak of nature, it is only $20 to see the flop.

I have two red aces. It's decision time. I think if I raise preflop, it will be reraised, and I will be all in on the flop. If I call the $20 and the Big Blind doesn't raise, I am first to act on the flop. 

I call the $20 and Big Blind does not raise. Flop comes down 4, 4, 8, rainbow (all different suits). This is a pretty useless flop for anyone not holding a 4. I think for a few seconds and make a large almost pot size bet. Billy Bealer should be proud.

As it's one of a handful of hands I have bet with in two hours and one of the few I played beyond the flop, the Bealer Boys all fold to me. I play a few more hands and retired for the night.

In retrospect - which is more rational than 'in the moment', I never should have sat down in that game, when all I was willing to buy-in for was maybe less than 1/3 the smallest stack, and perhaps a large bet for the largest two stacks.

On a side note, John Bealer went up $2,400 in those few hours. It all came from three players with more cash and less common sense than I have. Billy Bealer went up about $700, and went back down. As for me, I made a two dollar profit. I think that was a 'gimme' by the Bealer Boys. Next Hand...

Poker, Craps, and Poker Stories For After Dark

Here are three Poker/Gambling stories I’ve either witnessed or heard about over the years. The last story is unsettling, and it makes me wonder if what Big Bob said to The Kid was true or not. It goes with out saying, no matter how many years you live, you have not seen or heard it all.

This first story happened years ago as I was sitting in a poker game at O’Sheas (now permanently closed) Casino in Las Vegas. What happened has probably been attempted in many Poker Rooms and Casino Table Games, but I am sure, it is very, very rare.

Poker has a term, ‘Angle Shooting’, which refers to players who are not quite outright cheating, but are as close to the cheating line as they can get. This player, Player X, took angle shooting to a whole new level, outright theft.

O’Sheas had one low limit ($1 - $3) Texas Hold em Poker Table setup that was open to the sidewalk. A few players at the table actually sat with their chairs on the sidewalk. This was most likely to attract Customers who were curious about poker, but never played poker. They could watch from the sidewalk. Player X sits down in an open chair with his back to the sidewalk.

Player X is playing conservatively (tight), folding every hand for a couple rounds. Now, on the flop, there is a raise and a re-raise in front of him. Player X calls, The original bettor goes all in on the turn, the next player calls the all in, and Player X goes all in.

The pot has over eight hundred dollars in $100.00 bills and cash. The dealer turns the river card. After the first two players show their hands, Player X stands up, grabs all the $100 bills in the pot, some of the chips too, turns, and runs down the street, getting away. Of course O’Sheas has his picture which I understand is shared with all other Casino’s on the strip. Player X’s short poker career in Las Vegas was officially over. I wonder if he lived another year?

I was playing Craps one evening, when a stumbling drunk Woman barely makes her way to the Craps table. She asks the dealer, “How do you play this game?”, inadvertently dropping a black ($100.00) chip onto the field. As the dealer is explaining the basics of Craps, the shooter rolls a twelve and the Drunk Woman wins $300.00 from the $100.00 bet she didn’t know she made. She now has $400.00 sitting in the field.

She tells the dealer she does not understand any of what he is saying. The next roll is thrown, a nine. The very drunk Woman wins again! The Woman is  oblivious to what is going on. The dealer tells her to pick up her chips from the field - $800.00 in black chips.

She says she does not understand anything, but picks up the chips the dealer is pointing to. She stumbles off presumably to the elevator, heading to her room. I wonder if she knew where the extra black chips came from the next morning?

This final story is so bizarre, I would not believe it if I had not heard it from three different Poker Players who were in the poker room at the time it happened. I have known them for decades, and never heard them tell a lie. I knew one of the players in the hand. I heard it happened, but not the details until recently.

This is a local No Limit Texas Hold em game. The two players remaining in the hand on the Turn each had over ten thousand dollars on the table in front of them before this hand was dealt. Pre Flop and Flop bets are large. The Turn brings a possible Straight Flush with three spades in sequence on the board. 9s, Ts, X, Js. X is a non spade card of no real help to either player.

The two players in the hand on the Turn are: Big Bob, a long time big money player. The second player, an upstart who thinks he is God’s gift to the Poker World; though a tough player in his own right. Let’s call him, The Kid. The Kid is first to act, and goes all in for his Turn play, pushing his remaining chips out in front of him. There is now well over fourteen thousand dollars in the pot.

It is Big Bob’s turn to act. Big Bob contemplates what he will do - call or fold. Big Bob asks The Kid, “Do you want me to call?”

The Kid says, “Hell yes, I want you to call”. Big Bob looks at the The Kid and says, “You know I sold my Soul to the Devil, don’t you? I’m going to win this hand!”

The Kid looks shocked, then scared, but tells Big Bob he wants him to call his all in. Big Bob declares he is all in.

There is a dramatic pause and the Dealer flips the Ks as the River card. The board is 9s, 10s, X, Js, Ks. The unnamed  card, X, is not a spade and no obvious help to either Player.

The Kid, turns over 8s, 7s, for 7s, 8s, 9s, Ts, Js, a beautiful Straight Flush! Big Bob smiles, and turns over the Qs for a Larger Straight Flush, 9s, Ts, Js, Qs, Ks, winning the pot! In the moment, I think I would have ran out of the Poker Room, never to return. For Big Bob, it was just another day at, ‘The Office’.

MX Linux Revives Old Computer

I have an eleven year old Samsung Laptop that used to run Windows 7, but would not upgrade. About three years ago, I put Linux Mint on it and gave it away. A few weeks ago I got it back. I thought I would install the latest version of Linux Mint and give it away again, but things were not quite that straight forward and obvious.

To begin with the battery will not charge, and the laptop was running ‘very’ slow. The dead battery was not unexpected, but the slowness was excruciating. It ran like my very first computer with cassette tape boot and storage. I would start it up, go make a sandwich, and come back, and it would be ready to use.

I did a web check for Linux distributions for old computers and Lubuntu Linux was in all of the articles, so I thought it was a good place to start. I downloaded the latest Lubuntu, put it on a USB stick, and nothing. I tried a different port and nothing. I went back to the bios, played with the boot settings and, nothing.

An interesting side note, I had to tell the bios each boot up where to boot from. The settings defaulted to the hard drive after each boot sequence. This Samsung Laptop has a CD-Rom built in, so I put Lubuntu on a DVD. It loaded to the desktop screen after about six minutes. I blamed this on the painfully slow CPU speed for which I had not discovered the bios setting for. Lubuntu installed, but that was about it. It was painful. Screens could not be resized for starters. Nor could they be relocated on the screen. Lubuntu was painful to use.

After pulling the laptop apart only to find nothing loose, I looked at the bios. The bios it turns out has a setting to slow the CPU speed when the battery falls below below twenty percent. A brilliant idea back in the day, but not practical having a dead battery. I turned the option off. It ran like the champ it is after that, well almost.

I thought I would try Xubuntu, it would not load Firefox web browser when running from the DVD. I did not try to install it. Linux Mint happily installed. Upon reboot however, all I got was a two tone flashing display, like a gray train crossing signal light. I checked around and found it is a sometime issue when a computer has two video cards. This Laptop has built in Intel graphics and a Radeon video Card. Even though I knew the problem, it would not boot so I could disable one of the video cards.

Next up was my daily driver, MX Linux. MX Linux bills itself as a middle weight Linux, so I did not hold out a lot of hope for it. Fortunately, the MX Linux Crew knows about issues with dual video cards. Pressing F4 on the Splash Screen and setting the video menu to on, let me disable a video card.

For the first attempt, I disabled the Intel Video, letting the system use the Radeon Graphics Card. I found the Radeon Graphics card had gone the was of the battery, so I reinstalled disabling the Radeon Video card. Installation went on without a hitch. The needed updates were almost 250 megabytes, and there was some auto building for a few items being installed. But everything was smooth and painless.

Upon reboot, this eleven year old Samsung laptop now can hold its own. It’s not blazingly fast,  but it’s not annoying slow either – coming from someone who has a eleventh generation i7 in his desktop. So all turned out well.

My end point is this, don’t throw away ‘old’ computers, they have a lot of life left. Check the bios before installing Linux, in case there are any surprises, like cpu throttling. Try a few different distributions, some work better on different hardware than others. Finally, enjoy the process, there is nothing expensive to ruin, and lots of potential for someone who can’t afford a computer.

Fit in 15 at 60+! - Short Overview

I rarely review books. I am writing about this book though. I have no relationship with the Author, and am receiving no compensation for this article. It is a valuable book if you are a Senior.

This book is a wise investment. On the surface, it is simplistic. The basis is the Author was over sixty and was having issues while trying to get in shape. Exercise was painful and was not producing results. How many people over 60 are not starting to have real issues with common tasks and simple exercise?

If you are over sixty, you and I both know exactly what the Author faced, and this is where his book shines! Are the books basic exercises simple? Yes they are. They start in a chair, it is difficult to get much simpler with exercise than sitting in a chair. 

I read complaints these exercises are too simplistic. I do them, and they are simple, yet effective. If you want to know how limber you are not, do some of the exercises. I found out I was not as limber as I thought I was. Now, I'm getting better and more limber. I now think, what else do I have to do, and what do I have to lose? Everything?

The fascinating thing about people over sixty is we are limber enough, most of the time to do those things we do every day. Completing new or rarely used movements more than a few times, and we know about it the next day, the day after, and the day after. I grew sick and tired of the muscle aches and the frustrations of exercising. There was pain and no gain.

This book is helping me to learn how to manage 'exercise' without waking up sore the next day, and bring satisfaction back to basic exercise. I hope the pep talks and the basic exercises in the book stick with me. They take little time and feel good, so I think they will. I am fairly limber, but if I do out of the usual type of yard work or my even preferred exercise routine, I wake up to spend a few days being very sore.

After modifying my exercise routine as Mr. Jenner suggests, most of my pain  and exercising frustration are now mostly in my past. I wake up knowing I used my muscles, but it is not painful as it used to be. I now look forward to exercising. I am happy to do the simple stretches as they help me feel even better.

The second fact I learned is what happens in our muscles when we get sore, and how to make it better. I scoffed at the suggestion that eating differently would make most of the pain of exercise go away. With nothing to lose I followed the authors suggestions. It is a miracle! I wonder how many years I thought I had Delayed Onset of Muscle Soreness (DOMS), only to realize some exercise pain is diet related.

After reading the book cover to cover, which is recommended before starting the exercises, I found these two insights about exercise and eating alone make the book worth it's asking price. I am sure Mr. Jenner, the author, experienced the exact same issues I have experienced. He dug around and researched until he found the answers. Exercise hurts more when you are over 60! But he found a fix!

His program is simple, it is intended for older adults, not twenty somethings. It is comprehensive. Give the simplest exercises a chance, what do you have to lose? I find the book is more than worth the asking price.

Almost Indestructible - My Echo Dot

 

We all have bought items that after purchase we found were under-engineered. That pretty 'cheap' bicycle that started falling apart before the summer was over. The greatest frying pan ever that started peeling after a few months. The 'budget' car that over time costs more to keep on the road than a luxury car would have. The list is unending.

I found what I think is the most over-engineered $20.00 (at the time) item on the planet! Welcome to my Echo Dot. When I first bought it, I heard the stories about how it spies on you and records everything it hears? I have a commercial router system in the house, and my Echo Dot used little bandwidth when I was using to to play music, etc. Bandwidth when idle was minimal. I wrote it off to updates, etc.

Then one week I received an email from my Internet service provider telling me, I was at the limit of my bandwidth for the week. How could that be? Our bandwidth usage is almost the same week to week, month to month. I was sure there was a mistake, what happened?

Checking my usage on an app that works with my router, I found our bandwidth usage was boringly normal. I was ready to get on the phone and find out what the problem was. Then I checked the usage specifically for my Echo Dot. Wow! It was like being hit with a water balloon! The bandwidth usage for four days  was higher than was used by all other devices in the house combined! And it sat mostly idle for these day as the thrill was gone.

I performed an instant unplug. The excessive bandwidth usage never returned.  Perhaps the Echo Dot thought it was told to play a silent radio channel, was somehow hacked, or was indeed listening and uploading conversation. It had been sitting in the corner for about a year, with me wondering what to do with it.

This afternoon, I decided to look inside the Echo Dot and see why it was so heavy. The Pictures are the result of about ten minutes attacking my Echo Dot with a pry bar and a sixteen ounce (one pound head) hammer. As you can see, I really did not do near the damage I would have with any other electronics I own. With the rest, one or two blows would have shattered the electronics.

There is no obvious reason for the beyond industrial strength build of my Echo Dot. As for why my Echo Dot is so over-engineered is left up to the imagination. However I can not think of any kid's toy or street legal vehicle built to the beyond tough standards of my Echo Dot.

Life and Death in Intensive Care

 

My Father had a stroke when I was about twelve, and was in and out of intensive care for the next six years. I did not know it at the time, but this first day in the intensive care waiting room, was only one of many days. They seemed never ending, going on forever.

It is 8:03 Saturday morning, waiting in the Intensive Care waiting room begins at 8:00. We are a little late. Visitation with patients is five minutes twice a day. Once in the late morning and once in the late afternoon. That works out to three three minutes for my Mother and two minutes for me. Twice a day.

Two minutes was plenty for me, my Father was in a coma so conversation was not happening. During his last time in coma, I finally man'd up, opened one of his eyes, and told him, "It is okay, you can leave if you want." It was the only "in coma" conversation we ever had, the one way conversation that it was. It was perhaps the longest conversation we had that year.

This was pre-personal electronics time. The hospital waiting room had a television that could barely be heard, which didn't matter as there was only one channel. There were about a dozen chairs for waiting, usually there were less than four people total in the area.

When go in the actual room on Saturday and Sunday, or every day if he's slipping, I see my Father is one of four patients in the room. Calling them patients is generous. Four haggard bodies laying in beds with monitors calling out their pulse, recording their blood pressure. Covered in one sheet, and one thin blanket.

IV's for everyone. If you are an intensive care patient, you get an IV. Besides the saline drip, additional shots are given through the IV. Occasionally the saline solution is changed out for something else. The saline solution becomes a plastic bag of chemical cocktail.

Hanging on the left side of each bed, are catheter bags filling with urine, drop by drop. Urine which is very yellow to tinted red with blood depending on how close the patient is to dying. Every day the bags are weighed to measure fluid flow. I don't know about the bags with blood in them. Maybe they don't bother weighing them.

Beeping machines and ragged breathing are the only noises in the room. All four patients are unconscious. There are no flowers or get well cards. Only one visitor in the room at a time. Just as I can identify the bodies in the bed as actual people, one body is replaced by another body. 

I start to think of them as mute, frigid actors playing a role, and not humans living out their last days in a coma, induced or natural. Generally, they will not leave the room to continue their recovery elsewhere. They go feet first to the hospital morgue, and then on to their final viewing.

Every Saturday, every Sunday, and every day when he takes a turn for the worse I am sitting in that waiting room. Ten hours a day of sitting. My day is broken up by rushed tasteless cafeteria meals that no one ever remembers eating. A few bathroom breaks. No wandering. Riding home with my Mother after six to eat a TV dinner, usually fried chicken, sit around for a while looking at more mundane TV, and off to bed.

During the week days when I am actually in school, I clean house, do my laundry and make dinner. Summer time means cutting the grass. Winter means shoveling snow three days a week or more. Generally we eat frozen TV dinners, but sometimes something simple. What passes for spaghetti, or leftovers from the last time my Mother cooked.

Mornings are pretty routine, I wake to an alarm and get ready for school, my Mother does the same except she goes to work. Usually I eat oatmeal or a couple of raw eggs. Eggs were not a favorite of mine, and raw was better than cooked, gross as that may sound. Conversation is limited. Other than my Father, what is there to talk about?

I missed around fifty days of school my junior year and around fifty days my senior year. I slipped through the schools 'tracking system' until it came time for graduation. My School was not sure I had enough attendance days to graduate. It mattered little that credit wise I was way ahead of the curve. They said they had no idea of my home situation. Eight hundred people from K-12 and I, 'slipped through the cracks'.

Sitting now in a little side room, is my Mother, myself and a nameless Doctor. The Doctor is telling us, this time he has been in a coma thirty days, and as far as they can tell, he will never come out of the coma. With my Mother's permission they want to end life support - pull the plug. How many times can you hear this and make a silent decision you hope you will never be asked about? Rinse and repeat over the previous few years.

On the thirty-third day of coma, he opens his eyes. Rinse and repeat. This time however his stay is short. After three days of being awake, he closes his eyes for the last time. I am mostly emotionless about his death and funeral. It's over - or I checked out.

In his six years in and out of the hospital, he had anger issues. Stroke patients with hair trigger tempers was and maybe is still quite common. His vocabulary never grew to more than perhaps thirty words. "Newspaper" (cigarette) and "Son of a Bitch" being the most common of his vocabulary choices.

Life between hospitalizations was never normal, I was one of two caregivers from about twelve to seventeen when there was no school. What I did for fun was limited in the day time. Those years have become a six year blur with periods of checking or blacking out when the stress became too great, which I did not know of until a few years later.

I spent my teen years onward with white coat syndrome, imagine that. I can't stand the smell of doctor's offices, let alone hospitals. When I need to visit nursing homes, I am filled with a mix of emotions. I know where they are going, and I know how lucky they are not to be there already. 

Then I hope they never make it to the hospital for that final visit, for their sake. Then I pray that I may be a fortunate one. I prefer to miss both stays. However with modern medicine, we generally are not that lucky.

Linux Simple Overview, Desktop, Menus, Memory Usage

This post is now a little outdated, but should be good for a general guide and overall picture of these Linux Distributions. It is about seven Linux Distributions, memory used when first booted, number of applications in the default menu, startup and shutdown, and Snap packages too. Also mentioned are a few snags you may have when using KDE, or installing a second Ubuntu distribution.

Contrary to popular thought, the memory used between several distributions with different Desktop configurations is relatively minor for newer computers. The biggest differences are really the number of menu entries in each of the distributions.

I mention Snap packages, because they are either loved or hated by users. Loved because everything is configured and dependencies are included. Hated because Snap Packages can not be modified by the user. You get what the maker of the Snap Package deemed proper, nothing more, nothing less.

I tried an Ubuntu Child which did not install Snap packages until, surprise - a later general upgrade. I was not a happy camper. One of the packages was my web browser, which I sync with a few other computers both Linux and Windows. The Windows Firefox looked horrible after sync, so I changed the settings to improve its looks. When I used my other devices the web browser looked horrible on them. Snap packages are not my cup of tea.

In that regard, everything Ubuntu or created from Ubuntu, with the exception of Linux Mint (as far as I am aware) installs snap packages at some point. If you are okay with Snap, Ubuntu is great. If Snap Packaging interferes with your settings and usage, you may want to rethink your choice of Linux Distribution, or spend your time removing Snap Packages and installing from the web sites.

If you wish to add a second distribution on your computer, and your first Distribution is a flavor of Ubuntu or derived from Ubuntu, Grub is not going to be happy. All the Ubuntu derivatives I have tried are identified as “Ubuntu” in Grub.

Grub, in my experience, will not create two Ubuntu entries. What I have experienced is one of the Ubuntu Installs loses it's Grub entry, therefore seems to lose its ability to be booted using Grub.

My main go to Linux is MX Linux which is based on Debian 11 Bullseye. I use the XFCE Desktop which makes a slight difference on memory used as it requires a little less memory.

Ditto for Endeavor OS. Linux Mint Distribution uses Cinnamon Desktop, KDE anything of course uses KDE Desktop. I prefer XFCE for the right click menu option anywhere on the screen.

KDE if you are not aware of it, is a little different in some important respects than XFCE or Cinnamon Desktops. KDE Desktop is KDE centered, and may not run some non KDE programs.

While XFCE and Cinnamon Desktops will run KDE applications. I have never experienced problems with KDE apps, or apps from other Desktops in XFCE or Cinnamon Desktop. Take that comment for what it is worth.

This may have changed since I last time I used KDE, but in general. If your data is stored in KDE applications, they may not export to a format you want to export your data to. It does not feel like an issue in the beginning, but rears its ugly head down the road when you have a lot of information to export and it wants to export to a clunky to use format.

It is important to me that any app I use does not hoard my data or export to a format that is difficult to use, like xml. KDE apps in the past did not easily export so data could be used in other applications. If I wanted to change applications, I would end up doing unending CTRL + C and CTRL + V to copy and paste my data into another program.

A great example of a well behaved application is ZIM Wiki. All the information I put into ZIM is of course displayed in Zim itself. However the information is stored in a folder in individual text files on the hard drive. If I ever wish to replace Zim, I can delete it, and all my information is safe and readable.

In general, if you like to tinker with your Desktop making big and small changes, KDE is the go-to Desktop. XFCE is one the most limited along with Mate, and can be boring. On to what I started this post for:

Distribution causes for concern:

Memory usage at Boot up, Menu Entries, Startup and Shutdown,  Snap

Debian 11.x:                     522588 MB         ~ 43 Menu Entries            Fast    No Snap by default

MX Linux 21.3:                522588 MB         ~ 123 Menu Entries!        Fast      No Snap by default

Endeavor OS 2021.04.1    525452 MB            ~ 47 Menu Entries       Fast     No Snap by default

Feren, Kubuntu, KDE Neon  660236 MB  ~ 55 Menu Entries  Both Pause during boot    Will add Snap

Kubuntu, Feren OS and KDE NEON are based on Ubuntu Linux, so memory usage, menu entries, Startup and Shutdown and Include Snap. Information should be about the same across the distro's. Very nice desktops though!

I listed the menu entries, but my counting skills are not the sharpest, so I may be off a few numbers either way. MX Linux as noted has more menu entries than any other two Distributions combined. I am not privy to details, but I think this comes from the Anti X side of MX Linux. Anti X has so many menu entries, even a seasoned user may get lost in the menu.

I am not sure why a distribution goes out of its way to stuff the menu with apps and options, but it happens. I am more in line with elementary OS and Zorin OS Linux, less is better. I would rather add fifteen packages than remove thirty or more packages and menu entries.

A few points to remember are:

Memory usage is not really an issue for newer computers unless you are a very heavy graphics applications user. Even memory starved computers (64 bit) can run (almost) any distribution, though the user may be happy with the outcome. (At least a few distributions these days check available memory and will not install on low memory machines.)

KDE is a tinkerers dream, and options seem endless. Cinnamon has enough desktop options to keep most users happy. XFCE is the most limited modifiable Desktop environment.

If you are trying out KDE, ensure your KDE applications have a usable export options - to .txt or some such. Ubuntu based distributions are all similar, so expect the same results from different flavors. KDE also favors the use of Snap packages from what I (unofficially) read.

Finally, without modifying Grub Menu, Grub does not know what to do with two Ubuntu Distributions, one of them may lose its Grub entry. Ubuntu does have a Grub entry modify app and there are other apps that replace grub.

Simple and Cheap home Composting

 

It is springtime finally, and that means many Gardeners are out buying hundreds of dollars of plants and bags of dirt for their lawns and gardens. Some of us mulch and save some money on dirt. Some of these Gardeners them even make mulch.

The upsides of mulching are many, and I won't take space to tell you about it, as you already probably know. I have used all the mulching methods I will mention here, and each has its advantages depending on your needs.

The simplest for a small home is a Crock-pot liner with a cover. This is where kitchen scraps start their journey to becoming mulch for me. Most kitchen scraps go into the Crock-pot. 

If you are not sure what to mulch, there are several resources on the web. In general any dying vegetables and vegetable scraps are fair game. No meat as you do not want the things that meat attracts. I also add tea bags and a few tea bag paper wrappers. Eggs shells are okay for most areas.

Once the Crock-pot is full it goes to the backyard to have it contents buried. In about six weeks, there is little sign of what I buried. This is the easiest method I have found for mulching a little kitchen waste.

If you have more than occasional kitchen waste to compost this method works well. It does not, where I live in the Southwest produce compost, but it works well as the process is about 3/4 composted. All it takes is four clay planters or other containers with bottom holes in them that will stack. Find a raised base to keep the bottom container off the ground.

Add scraps to one container until it is full. Place a second container on top and start filling it. Continue until the fourth container is filled and stacked. If you live in a dry climate as I do, you need to add water to the top container and let it filter down to the bottom container.

Add enough water that water reaches the fourth container and starts dripping out. In my experience, when the fourth container is full, the bottom container has made 'almost' mulch that can be mixed in with your garden soil.

For yard waste, I found two methods I prefer. The first is four straw bales stacked two high against a fence wall with about a three foot gap between them. Add your yard waste as you collect it. If you live in a dry climate, the yard waste will need some water and possibly nitrogen to speed up the process. Eventually the straw bales themselves will compost and will need to be replaced.

The second is simply a 55 gallon plastic barrel with the bottom cut off. Add yard waste as you collect it. This works well for smaller amounts of yard and kitchen waste. When you need a little compost roll the barrel over a few feet and collect what compost that is left behind.

In wrapping up:

Crock-pot -> hole in ground or clay pots.

Four stacking clay pots filled from the bottom up -> add to your garden soil

Straw bales stacked -> compost is at the bottom of the pile. -- Pic at top of article

55 gallon barrel with the bottom cut out -> roll the barrel to the side to collect the compost.  - Pic at top of article

A small disclaimer. Many composting articles show pictures of cubic yards of compost being produced. If you are a single home owner in the city, the amount of compost you will actually produce will be more limited and the process slower.

All the materials added to the composting process return to the dirt they were before, minus most of the water. So do not expect a lot of compost for your work and time. The compost you do create however is something to be proud of and beneficial to your garden and yard.

Empathy, Integrity, Real Life

 

I couldn't sleep tonight, too much coffee while I was out and about today. I did one of those rare things, I went to a few poker forums to see what if anything has changed. They are about the same as they were when I was active on one of the poker forums.

One interesting header caught my attention, it was a thread about empathy and poker. The poster was going through the problem of playing poker with people who he inwardly felt sorry for because he understood or felt what they were feeling.

I resembled that remark early in my poker playing days. It was back when limit poker was king, and there was no no-limit poker to be found that an average person could afford to play.

I think I had recently made the transition to Holdem as I realized that I could make as much money winning one nice pot in Holdem as I could beating my head against the wall playing Seven Card Stud. Those were heady days.

There was a rather old couple who played the about the same time I played, and often we would be at the same table. Besides the fact they made poor decisions, they flashed their cards by holding them up in the air. They should not have been playing for money.

The preferred to sit near the middle of the table which meant at least four of the players at the table could see their cards every hand. I told them a few times what they were doing, but it had no lasting effect. I arrived at a point when I would fold my cards if I saw their hands in my sense of fair play.

Other players at the table did not share my skewed sense of ethics. While they would not lean back and look at the old couples cards, they were not above taking their money when they saw their respective hands waving in the air and knew they were ahead.

After some weeks of my high and mighty stand, the light bulb turned on. The old couple lost every time they played. They knew they were going to lose their money before they even sat down at the table. The other players at the table took their money and used it against me, betting and raising when they normally would check it down. It was not their money they were betting in the strictest sense of the word.

This was keeping my play in a defensive mode. I had my meager stacks of chips and most of the other players had their chips plus some of the old couples chips. I determined in the moment, that if the old couple wanted to play, they were playing knowing they were going to lose. Just because I did not want to take their money did not mean they were not going home broke.

In less than five minutes I changed the way I played against the old couple. I too was not craning my head to see their hands, but neither was I looking away. I had warned them several times previously, and they were aware of what they were doing.

Of course my win rate increased. On the bright side, the other players willingness to bully me also decreased for the simple reason their win rate had dropped and mine went up.

I still have some empathy and sympathy when I play though. When I know someone is playing with money they really should not be playing with, I do not feel bad taking their money because I know they would be happily taking mine if they could. I feel bad for them when the shock they feel at going broke to standing up and walking away sets in. That is usually about seven seconds.

Gambling in some ways is the last great democracy. No one forces anyone to the table, makes them buy chips, or tells them they have to play. If they did not lose their money at say, the poker table they would lose it somewhere else. Perhaps poker is the healthiest option for them about where to spend their money.

Personal decisions do not always fly the banners of ethics and integrity. Most of our daily decisions are small and insignificant, others are life changing. Big decisions are often gritty and stained with dirt and discomfort. Our best decisions are hopefully carefully thought out. Many of our decisions though are not always on the moral high road. Much like life.

It is Free, Something is Wrong With It

Or, "It is free, what is the catch?" I am shopping at a local hardware store about two miles away to buy garden hose washers. While I am there I notice a young couple looking at a wheelbarrow, but not looking like they want to pay that much for it.

I walk up to them and say, “I have an old one and it is free if you want it. I bought it used three years ago. I used it for one small project, and its been sitting since then…. The wheel on it is a little to small, so you either have to bend over a bit or drag it….You can’t put too much in it at a time, but for a small job it works fine.”

“We only have a small job too.”

“Can we pay you for it?” 

“No, I bought it for $10.00 and more than got my use out of it, you can have it for free. Here is my address…..”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and if it does not work for you, you can come back and buy this one. I’ll be home in about twenty minutes or less.”

Two hours later and no young couple. 

I take a half sheet of paper and write on it, “Donation or Free”.

I take the wheelbarrow to the curb and tape the sign on it.

Less than ten minutes later it is gone. I do not live on a busy street.

Disappearing People

 

Disappearing People and Disappearing Things happen more often than we like to think about, and more often than we probably notice. Our brain only processes things that are important to us. Where to place our foot for the next stair step, a dog approaching, and so on.

People suddenly disappearing has happened to me over the years, usually walking in the city or in neighborhoods. Once when I was in England on an old country road, it happened in the middle of a large mustard field.

I was driving on a class C road, which was sunken about eight feet into the earth as these small roads sometimes are in that part of the country. 

A middle aged woman in a dark dress, bonnet and shoes  was peddling along on her bicycle with grocery bags in her back basket about thirty yards in front of me. Class C roads are too narrow to safely pass on. I was in no hurry, so I followed along behind her. We were going up a slight hill. 

She crested the peak of the hill, went over and out of sight. I crested the hill - and she was gone! I'm driving in the middle of a mustard field with the banks of the field  six to eight feet above me on each side of the road, and she has disappears! I stop and look around and there was nowhere for her to have gone to. She, her groceries, and bicycle vaporized into thin air.

A few months back, I exited a building and was walking down a curving cement walkway on a small hillside to the parking lot across the street. There was a hard right turn about the halfway down the hill, like a mountain trail switchback. The switchback was about about forty feet away from the street.

An older man dressed like a farmer was walking about twelve feet was walking in front of me. He had grey hair, wore a feed store baseball cap, worn jean jacket, tired, baggy jeans, and old brown work boots. I followed him for about for about fifteen seconds with both of us walking at the same speed. I walking slower than normal to keep a distance between us of about fifteen feet or so (COVID).

He walked like he had or maybe still milked cows. You need to be around farmers who own a small farm with milk cows to understand how they walk. They almost walk like Post-Men of old who carried heavy mail bags of mail on one shoulder as they walked the sidewalk of their route. Sort of a bowlegged hobble-walk.

The old farmer turned at the downhill right turn of the sidewalk switchback, and continued walking out of my line of sight. I was still maybe ten steps behind him. The switchback was such, that we never made eye contact and I never saw his face, nor he my face.

I made the turn, and he was gone! The Old Farmer had disappeared into thin air! The closest hiding spot were moving cars over forty feet away on the road. Him hiding is a silly idea, but the only obvious  explanation. Yet, disappeared he was! As I walked on, he was gone and not hiding.

Another time walking across the sidewalk of a town square, two teenage girls were walking towards me and suddenly transformed into gaunt starving werewolves. They walked about four steps and then vanished in mid stride from the sidewalk! One Mom almost ripped her daughter's arm off pulling her back from the apparitions. Other people walking behind them also saw them and saw them disappear. We asked each other for conformation of what we saw, and we all saw the same thing, though no one was sure exactly what those 'things' were.

I rarely notice 'things' that may appear and then disappear. There may be things popping out from nowhere and other things disappearing, but my brain decides they are not important.

Sometimes driving on rural roads, it seems cars appear and vanish in a totally random manner. Imagine  have been driving along with a blue car following you for the last twenty minutes on a rural highway. Suddenly it is not there, even though there was no road for it to turn off on. These things and other events seem to happen and usually we are not even aware of them happening. 

I am sure almost everyone has had these experiences, though we never talk about them. I first experienced this happening as a kid. Back then I thought it was normal. As I grow older I realize if it is normal, it is secret normal.

What's Wrong With Michael Today?

 

All too often lately, I find if I disagree with another person's viewpoint I spend the next minutes listening to, "What's wrong with Michael", rather than why my opinion is wrong, the other person is right, or we simply have a difference of opinion.

Today, I experienced what I think is an extreme example of, "What's wrong with Michael" or perhaps I was in conversation with someone from the "Abraham" Cult? We are out and about and stop at a coffee shop. A person next the sugar/cream/stir sticks, has an Esther and Jerry Hicks book.

I ask if they like the book. They nod yes.

I say, "I really liked their first book. Lots of good stuff. When I bought and listened to the four CD set, it did not sound believable."

"What do you mean?"

me: "It sounded like when Esther Hicks was channeling "Abraham", she sounded as if she was talking through a script, where occasionally she would pause, like she forgot the next line. Then she would continue".

"That's because of the difficulty of communication with Abraham, they had to pause to get the meaning exactly right."

me: "Okay. I guess we share a difference of opinion".

For the next minute, I listen to and mostly agree with comments about there being different planes of existence, different beings on these different planes, communication with these beings, etc. I do not agree about Esther Hicks channeling 'Abraham'.

I may as well have standing there making funny faces and laughing. This person is now visibly angry after their diatribe. I end the  'conversation' with, "You are correct".

I'm think, we have a difference of opinion, to each his own. I wonder, where in the Hick's books and channeling dialogue (?) is behavior like this person's behavior promoted? Nowhere of course.

I walk to my table, sit, chat and finish my tea, giving little thought to the conversation. We all have differing opinions. This exchange had been a little out of the ordinary, but stuff happens.

Leaving the coffee shop, I hold the door open for other Patrons who are coming in and leaving behind me. The fourth person coming out surprisingly, is the person with the Hick's book.

Standing in front of the door, blocking my exit and others entry, they launch into another tirade. The first ten seconds or so is on my poor thinking about the Hick's in general. The next seconds follow about how bad it is I do not believe the Hicks channeling is real. Followed up with - what is wrong with me, my thinking, my approach, my comments, etc, etc.

I spend my part listening and agreeing at times. I want an end to this inane ranting. It is an uncalled for over-reaction, and pointless. Customers are waiting at the blocked door, wanting to go inside and out.

The person becomes even more angry. This has become very, very personal for them. I can see the anger in their eyes. I listen again to why I am not only wrong about Esther Hicks, but how practically everything about me is flawed.

They finally run out of steam, turn and storm away. I am left with the impression they did not hear more than the first seconds of I did not believe Esther and Jerry Hicks were the real deal. They obviously are so angry, nothing I said was heard or matters.

I am not sure why my opinion of Jerry & Esther Hicks channeling Abraham - turned into this very personal and bitter rant. It is in the end, opinion. Maybe they are a member of the infamous Abraham Cult? 

About a year ago, I would write it off to the idea we were isolated for so long we forgot how to be civil in public. Now I wonder, I am attracting crazy for some reason? If this idea seems silly, listen to (read) this. This happened about six weeks ago. 

There is a man with his parked bicycle next to a store front door. As I walk by him to enter the store, I greet him (white man about 50) saying, "What's up Boss?"

He explodes into an immediate and very loud tirade with extreme gesturing and angry overtones. His abrupt verbal direction changes lose me as what he is so angry about. His ranting ends with the statement, the Government is controlling everything and every person in the Country. 

As he stops for a breath, I say, "You are probably right, have a good day". This leads to another immediate angry verbal tirade with gesturing about how can he possibly have a good day when he is being controlled? How can I have a good day as I am controlled too? I say once again, "Have a good day", and walk on.

Some days I wonder, am I attracting this behavior?

Forgotten Stress and Pain Release

I was watching a Documentary the other evening. I think it was called, "Heal". It was interesting, but nothing new, until they started talking about releasing hidden, forgotten and ignored pain and stress that went all the way back to childhood.

The idea is forgotten stressors act upon our body chemistry, causing autoimmune issues and certain types of disease because our body's healthy chemical balance has been suppressed for many years and less than stellar chemicals are roaming around in their place wreaking havoc on our well being.

This sounded like it was coming from Carney Row at the County Fair. I understand being stressed, but wasn't too sure I bought into the chemical imbalance that unrelieved stress brings about. Except they had a number of people including at least one person with stage four cancer who swore it is true, because they all reversed their illnesses through releasing hidden pain and stress.

The thought of buried, hidden stress release was a new idea to me. One of the experts in the Documentary said in his opinion there, 'is no one size fits all cure or fix'. Yoga and meditation in the morning may work for you, seeing a therapist for emotional issues may work better for me, as I understood his opinion.

The Documentary moved on to a Woman who was working with a practitioner who used EFT. EFT is interesting because it involves physical action to distract our brain. We repeat an EFT Practitioner's verbal suggestions while being physically distracted with tapping or rubbing or both.

At least that is my limited understanding from the documentary and one small EFT book I read some years ago. EFT is effective because it is a kind of distraction meditation. Spoken suggestions are put on a direct path to the brain because the subject is distracted with the physical distractions being induced by the EFT Practitioner.

In the Documentary, the EFT Practitioner was doing her thing, tapping away, and telling the patient to recall a painful moment, and at each memory recall, repeat the phrase, "I love you then", or something similar. Later in the show, the Woman claims her hidden pain and stress was eventually all gone (released), and her very serious health ailments had disappeared.

I like everyone else have long term and buried or forgotten pain and stressors hidden away in my brain. I decided because I meditate often, I would skip the EFT part and go with the, "I love you then" for the known stressors I could remember. I wasn't expecting a lot, because it seemed too simple. I am skeptical. I want proof.

I started with my biggest stress, 'White Coat Syndrome', and all the memories that keep it fresh and make me want to run, not walk out of Doctor and Dentist offices. The earliest memory I could recall was being six or seven years old sitting in a Dentist chair.

I was going to receive a shot of Novocaine for a drill and fill for a bad tooth. The Dentist who I suspected in later years was a drunk, put the glass Novocaine vial in the needle and moved it towards my mouth. It slipped and fell to the floor and broke.

He picked up the broken glass vial pieces and the now useless needle. He said, "This is your fault, you little shit", and stabbed the knuckles of my right hand with a piece of the broken Novocaine vial glass leaving me with a lifelong scar. Upon recalling this memory I said, "I love you then".

(The Dentist came up with a believable story he told my Mother afterward that was not questioned, of course as he was the Dentist - authority figure)

Now I am remembering other bad dental and medical memories that made their long forgotten presence known, followed with my repeated, "I love you then" comments. Time disappeared replaced with, "I love you then" comments flowing through my mind at each remembered memory.

I realized something changed after a (unknown period of) time. The voice saying, "I love you then", was not my voice. It was coming from somewhere else, and the memories of painful and stressful times of my life arrived without any prompting. I was now a watching, hearing observer of those times in my life that stressed me out or caused pain, of which I had long ago forgotten about.

When I 'awoke' some time later, I knew I still wasn't through with the memory recall and the, "I love you then", comments. Amazingly, I felt like one-hundred pounds of just below skin level stress had left me! I felt so relaxed, I thought if I were to take my blood pressure, I would probably be concerned because it would be so low.

If you are used to meditating, you may be able to duplicate the results I did without any EFT stimulus. If you do not meditate, you may want to read up on EFT, and pick a few EFT movements that feel right for you as you try out the process. Better yet, find an EFT trained person to work with you.

I do not know what exactly happened during my experience, or if my body's chemical structure has started to change, but something good definitely took place. I felt so at peace and relaxed, it felt abnormal in the moment.

Twenty-four or so hours later, it feels a little hokey writing this. I still feel very calm and at peace with the world. Something definitely changed from the time I decided to try this process to the time I stopped. I will be doing this again, perhaps many times, until I feel there is no more hidden stress and pain to release. I highly recommend you try this process. I am still skeptical about the process. I am looking forward to some months in the future to see what lasting changes have taken place.

I Will Meet You When you Pass

 

This is a story that started almost fifty years ago. The ending won't be known until a future time.

I was maybe 22 years old and wild. My summertime life consisted of fishing and weekend parties with usually over fifty hours of work per week thrown in to provide balance. In winter life was not much different. I usually had one day off a week. I worked the afternoon shift and sometime Sunday mornings when someone did not show up.

It was a warm summer evening, and my friends and I decided to go to sit in a hot springs and drink some beer. Somewhere along the line, between getting off of work and the hot springs, a couple of Women decided they wanted to join us. I did not know either of them.

One of the two women took a liking to me, though I have no clue why. I was not looking for a girlfriend, and made no sign I was. I'll call her Keri. Keri had recently moved into town. She was a pleasant, easy going, very likable (I thought) young woman, though her life was a lot quieter than mine. I was curious how she fell into our group that night.

I really enjoyed Keri's company. Other than our night and day lifestyle differences we were a good fit, almost too good. Keri worked days, I worked afternoons. We had different days off. I was bent on self destruction and she was focused on having a normal, sane life and fun friends. Keri did not care to drink, which limited her party time and any extra time we may have had together.

We saw each other on and off for about six months. Keri decided it was time to go back home. All work, and no real fun was no life for her. She missed her friends and her more normal social life. We spent her last day in town together. It was one of the best days of my life back then, though I did not appreciate it how good it was in the moment. I now occasionally wish the day could have gone for a week. It wasn't meant to be.

I would think of Keri now and then over the years. Wondering how she was doing. I imagined she was happily married and had a family. I had no doubt she was a good friend, wife, and mother. She had that kind of personality. I wished her the best whenever I thought of her.

A few months ago, I found she was on my mind - a lot. Almost like a cloud of Keri was surrounding me. No matter what I was doing, thoughts of Keri would seep into my mind. Why the sudden feeling she was around me and in my thoughts?

A few days later in a dream, Keri was talking to me. Keri told me she had passed on. Keri said she had a good life and a family, and had no regrets about her life. Then came the bomb shell.

Keri told me she would be there to greet me when it was my time to pass. Then the dream was over. I woke up and this dream was the only thing on my mind. Keri would be there to meet me when I passed.

My thoughts were all over the place. Was I going to die soon and did not know it? Why would I have a dream like this? It was not an empty dream, there must be some meaning in it.

A few days later, the feeling of Keri being around me was back. Because I am a cynic, I had a plan. I told the  Keri presence, if that was not a dream, and she was who she said she was, and she would be there to meet me when I passed, I wanted some type of proof, that this was not my imagination. I wanted an irrefutable sign.

A couple days went by, and no sign it was anything but a dream and unaccounted for feelings. I was starting to think it was all my imagination. Six days later, in the evening I was reading the news on my computer. There was a small story about the town of Keri, in Keri county. It seems a small brush fire was started right outside of town, about ten to fifteen acres were burned before it went out, or was put out. The article did not mention how it started or why it went out.

There I was sitting wondering if this was the proof I asked for, or some wild billion to one coincidence? What are the odds of a town and county named Keri making the news for such a small event, and that I would be reading about it?

Unlike older ill people I have spoken with in the past, who said they dreamed dead relatives were coming to get them, I do not feel this was some ominous warning. Perhaps it is what it is, and this women who I knew for such a short time for whatever reason wants me to know that when it is my time, I won't be alone, and Keri will be there to meet me.

Or perhaps it is entirely a coincidence? I am really undecided, and I am guessing I won't know, until I know. In the mean time I feel comfort by the thought. You will have to decide the ending as I won't be able to provide the ending.

Surreal Choice, Real Life Decision

I was five years old, going down the stairs, then out the door to meet my friends when she appeared. If I had known the word, I would have called her an apparition or illusion. How can a very tall woman, stand in the door, above the door and in the wall, and make it look normal?

I immediately knew who she was, yet I did not know who she was. She was dressed in a brown pants suit with thin, vertical, darker brown stripes and a brown hat. She had brown hair and kind of a housewife appearance, though I knew she was not a housewife. She was not someone to trifle with, if for no other reason than her sudden appearance scaring the heck out of me. To this day I do not remember her eye color or if she wore nail polish or not. She did have a purse of brown leather and brown shoes.

Her voice was stern. "Well", she said, "are you going to do it or not?" As I did not have a thought in my head other than finding some friends outside to play with, it was not obvious to my child’s mind what her question meant. I did know by the tone of her voice, that this was a very serious question and my answer should be carefully thought over.

She repeated, "Are you going to do it?" It was the most awkward thing, trying to come up with an answer when there is only fog surrounding the question and a blank for an answer. I found myself thinking back to an earlier time, before I was here, before I was born.

I was an adult somewhere standing around with a few other people,  talking about what was next for all of us. I declared I was going to create a technology that would change the world in unimaginable ways. It would be the greatest gift for mankind ever known. Someone asked if I was sure. Of course I am sure. Now, I am here in this world, a child being asked if I am sure?

I was barely enough to know that two and two equals four, and here I was being asked a question I didn't really understand. It wasn't even a thought until this moment when she asked her question. Me standing on the third stair from the floor, my descent blocked by this woman who simply appeared and blocked the way.

I knew I had to give her an answer and what ever answer I gave her was binding. In this moment I had a choice. After my answer, there would no longer be a choice. It took no more than a few seconds, but took decision making to a level that was beyond abstract for a child's mind, to put it simply.

"No", I said, "I am not going to do it."

I arrived at this answer by thinking of everything I knew about modern technology and what we (mankind) has done with it. Everything firstly had been used for the destruction of other Humans in one way or another. I was not going to be part of a perpetual world killing machine.

She stared down at me, and asked if I was sure. "No, I am not going to do it." "Very well, your life plan is erased." In an instant she was gone.

More than six decades later, I can still visualize the scene. This giant Woman standing where it was impossible to stand. Blocking my exit and demanding an answer to a question that had no meaning until that moment, when a before being born memory came flooding in from a place I could not remember being at, talking about something I did not until that moment remember.

My decision on that spring morning changed my life in ways lives are rarely changed. My life path was erased. My only direction my life was the direction I applied it to each day. It was akin to a sail boat with no rudder. I listened to other kids tell me what they were going to be when they grew up. I felt as if I only had two vague choices for my life, do good or do something else.

Now I am still at peace with my decision. I could not have lived with the guilt and horror I may have brought to this world, and the people that would have died as a result of my trying to do improve the world.

Surreal as it seems, this was an event that fashioned my life in ways I never could have imagined. I have the freedom to follow whatever life direction, randomness and chance send my way. Mine has been a difficult, frustrating yet liberating life. Made possible, by an event that perhaps did not exist.