everyday life - What I write about

Seriously now... about my subject matter.
     Not long after I started blogging I got a letter from someone complaining that my content is "...all over the place..." The reader said he couldn't tell what I was going to write about next, that this was disconcerting and that he thought that others might find it off-putting. He further cautioned he believed that I'd have trouble sustaining repeat readership because of this. Finally, he indicated that while he found some of the things interesting, I ought to limit my focus to one or two key areas ["...like, politics, for instance"] and write longer more thought about pieces.
     Well, I just didn't know what to say. I hope he continued reading me.
     I could be producing one of those things that endlessly repeats, spam-like, key words about specific subjects, like "health care" or "Student Loans." You know, the ones that have no profile or e-mail attached. Or I could write droning self-absorbed prattle about what CD's I just got or how boring history class was yesterday...or about my cats. But I don't. [well, sometimes, I might write about cats ~ mine as well as others.]
     I do listen and consider what people send and suggest to me. But right now I see little reason to change my format. So, this is an explanation of what I write about, and why.
     The name Short Notes, came from a column I wrote while working pre-press operations at a newspaper chain in the Adirondacks, oh - years back. They were literally "short notes" because the column ran pretty much the length of space we needed to complete the final pages of the paper.
     This site is an outgrowth of that and a personal journal I've been keeping since Christmas 1980. It's always been quasi-public. Online, it's even more so. But since it's my own set of reflections, I write pretty much about what's in the front of my mind. I'm not trying for a focused audience.
     Sometimes what I touch upon really is "...all over the place." Compared to the handwritten journal, my subject matter is fairly disciplined and terse.
     I'm not a linear thinker. My synaptic responses twist and tangent all over the place; rather like some of my conversations. I have a long-established interest in almost anything [well, I can't abide idle gossip, remain impatient with chatter shows and quickly lose interest in the drivel that passes off as news] so I'm apt to write about anything else that interests me.

     My interests include:
• human rights, • environmental concerns, • mental health, • life as a visual artist, • non-traditional families, • aboriginal culture, • sustainable technology, • permaculture, • 21st century feudalism, • progressive politics, • community planning, • achievable utopias
~ as well as other subjects I'm not thinking of just now.

     As for politics, I believe that there are plenty of folks, far more tuned into political shenanigans than I, so why go for a crowded venue?
     I don't want to waste anybody's time, so I try to write about or link to things that would inform; educate; spark thought; bring beauty into someone else's life; to amuse and distract from the grind that is life in the 21st century; and to direct folks to places where they can get more details. Simple as that.
     Finally, it's a personal website for gosh sakes! What's on yours?

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RESPONSIBLE OPPOSING VIEWPOINTS ENCOURAGED. ABOUT THE IMAGES: That's me at the tender age of 12 out back of my grandfather's house one Easter Sunday in one of the few pix extant of me wearing a tie. You ought to have seen the straw hat! The image to the left is a doodle I titled "Writer's Block"

everyday life - towing

When your car breaks down and it has to be towed in for repair, the event can be immensely frustrating. So how frustrating is this? the tow truck that needs a tow after pickup up a couple of clunkers? The side of the broken down truck says: "You call, we haul"

everyday life

     Tuesday evening, while taking one of my favorite long short cuts home [on Bierrun Road ~ which is comprised of many sharp twists and turns] a sleek black Lexus-type car comes veering around a blind curve and in the middle of the road. A stern-faced nattily dressed woman in the car glares at me. She is clearly not accustomed to being inconvenienced. Quickly I swerved over to the right. Before I have a chance to do anything else, I hear a loud "Pop" and know immediately that I have one big blow-out flat as the tire makes contact with a jagged rock.
     In the hundred plus feet that I have to drive in order to pull over [luck that; other parts of the road are not so generous] my mind conjures all sorts of swear words and foul thoughts interlaced with terms like "Yuppie Scum" and the "B" word. What you see below is how the woman "gifted" my truck.

I got out intent on fixing the tire, hoping the rain promised doesn't start too soon. "Call Triple A!" is the advice from home. I don't want to but when I can't get the spare tire cable to lower [WD-40 wasn't cutting it] I decide why not.
     By the time the guy from the tow service arrives, at least I've got the front tire almost off. A pleasant enough feller ~ a strapping, stalwart crew-cut blond, with a workman's tan, sporting prison tattoos while wearing designer glasses ~ he had an engaging demeanor, and set about to work at loosening the stuck cable with a good pry bar and sinew.
     He and I review the problem here. I've had the truck over three years, never had to use the spare, the bolt that holds the cable into place must have oxidized together ~ in short, they rusted.
     Now they's stuck together and can't come apart, like two dogs.
     Two dogs?
     Right. Two dogs.
     Uh huh. I replied.
     Old timer locals drove by, slowing down, offering assists or good will; while those who could have been the lady's friends rolled up their windows when they passed us.
     After over half an hour the cable still won't move. The Triple A guy says 'I'm gonna have to call the flatbed'. I quickly calculate how much more it'll cost to bring a flatbed up a narrow windy back dirt road plus extra tow miles I'm not covered for. I ponder for a minute and says aloud, 'Even worst now is not being able to get to the packy before it closes', then I grit my teeth and tell him, let's try this one more time.
     Both of us grunt and tug at the tire beneath the truck, when suddenly ~ "clunk" the rusted cable bolt gives way. We can change the tire at last.
     I do make it to the packy, but with minutes to spare. But I still get home too late.
     Thanks lady.

everyday life

Two days before we went to Montreal, the compressor on the fridge finally died.

A new fridge was delivered after getting back. If Bruce and I had done the move with the pick up truck it would have been anguish and angst. My vision was of ramps and dollies and lots of work and aggravation getting the two fridges moved but... what a surprise to watch these two haul it in on little more than a couple of sturdy belts. I'm sympathetic about their backs (if not now, then certainly when they get older).

Both men spoke with heavy accents. No way I'm gonna ask for their green cards. Both were polite and professional and quick.

By the way, this is the old fridge being carted away. We got it several years ago for $125 [usd] from folks moving out of state.

The stainless steel doors and the door-front ice dispenser were not as exciting as they seemed. I'm also glad to get back to a top/bottom door arrangement. Much easier to get at the food inside. Now to replace all the stuff that went beyond the point of saving.