Nagasaki

 Remembering...

(Kotaro Ueda - Kyodo News via AP)  2025-08-09

Quickly or Slowly?

    At 80 years out today, what has humanity, the world over, learned?     

    I posted my rhetorical question to Facebook and got and immediate, first-time reply from a casual acquaintance I "friended" on the social media platform some twenty years ago. Regrettably, his disheartening response only served to illustrate humankind's pernicious blindspots and ongoing obstinacy to improve.

    The emphatic lesson learned, according to his comment (and by inference, the only lesson to be learned), is that a nation shouldn't sneak attack another having the technical superiority to rain down fire in return. Indeed, going on to recite Isoroku Yamamoto's "sleeping giant" quote, he concludes, with both Hiroshima and Nagasaki as proof.

     In the face of such schoolyard, ass-whooping, myopic, juvenile jingoism (younger than me, this callous commenter wasn't even born at the time of the Pearl Harbor attack - nor was I) and utterly missing my broader point about warfare in general, I was left to lament, "It's as I feared, we're not learning at all." 

     I wasn't just speaking of one particular conflict of one particular group of nations or peoples. In fact in nationalists such as he, I see the Japanese, I see the Americans, I see the Nazi's, I see the Russians, I see the Israeli's, the Sudanese, the capitalists, the communists, the Haitians, et cetera. I see all the the armed, I see the good soldier, and all the factions, between nations, and within, everywhere, always warring, and pointing out the "other" as well as the accusing finger of blame. 

    Am I morally superior? I doubt it. Am I enlightened? I am the village idiot. I am the child who doesn't understand what it is I see. I see horror, I see mayhem, I see systematic murder and maiming. I see unspeakable violence being threatened and homicidal vengeance being "rained down". This is diplomacy?

    This is honorable?

    Still, it continues. Unstopped. It is being born anew and fostered, generation after generation (take my Facebook commenter for instance). What I find abhorrent is how it festers in the thinking and attitudes of so many - making Hell on Earth.

    Sorry for my ramble. It is hard so see hope for humankind dashed.

    I wondered if at first to leave the Facebook comment up (along with my reply) not wishing to thcensor disparate points of view. I thought to use it as an object lesson perhaps. However, when I saw the other reprehensible, blog posts made by this account holder (who is unashamedly proud of their religiousity - go figure) I began to feel their latest comment, a canker instead. And in the end, I did not wish platform it. 

    So I deleted both our replies to my post and, not desiring to associate myself with warmongering, "unfriended" this particular apologist. I will not be an avenue to the inevitable, the hate spawned by hawkishness. It has such a big stage to spread its ills already, that it does not need mine.

     Are my actions severe? Is my judgement prejudicial? Am I self-righteous? However, it is the little delusions we tell ourselves, the flag-waving, the tiny justifications, I fear and despise. The rationalizations for war must end. I hope I can do my part.

   These are the thoughts I managed to jot. I will go back and tidy, what I, for the moment, have hastily written.

Above Images: Pictorial Press Ltd., DPA Picture Alliance, Alamy

Might is all that matters (not quite cousin to might makes right)

A Note.

    Although I haven't any audience at all save myself, when looking at my blog posts and considering the ills of the world at large, I can't help but wonder how my entries would be viewed by others, Words such as fatuous, frivolous, meaningless, pointless, self-absorbed, self-indulgent, trifling, trivial, useless, vacuous, wasteful spring to mind. 

   Am I not the least bit aware of the sociopolitical and environmental horrors transpiring about me?

    I am.

    Why don't I occasionally direct my writings to  some of those issues? If I were well-spoken, knowledgeable, and intelligent, I would. Believe me, I would. I do care and am deeply impacted by the weightier matters that abound. I just don't have the competence, eloquence, or skill-set, I believe, to address them.

    What do I think of the horrendous genocide being perpetrated by the nation state of Israel on Palestine? ("Shooting fish in a barrel" as a number of the soldiers and security forces are doing.) How do I feel about the inexcusable and deliberate mass starvation in full view and evidence?

    I'm a pacifist and eupraxosphist, and my mind literally screams at the horror of it! I hate war - all forms of it! I do not think it honorable in the least! When I see what warfare, nationalism, and service has done to my family members, friends, and others, I spit bituminous bile. That humankind, all over the world, can routinely sink to such barbarity!

    But who listens to a little punk like me? I am nobody.

    What are my thoughts concerning the open attack on democracy here in the States and the world over? To think that heartlessness, hate, violence, and cruelty are the order of the day. Esurient and unfettered capitalism is devouring our planet at a devastating rate, and consigning our progeny to an disastrous, environmental fate we may be already unable to stop for them, let alone reverse! 

    Peace loving as I would wish to be, even I am sometimes tempted to say "eat the rich"! 

    The rights of people of color, of which I am one, the rights of women, and of the LGBTQIA are being trampled before my eyes. The candle of enlightenment is being snuffed by the mendacious, malevolent, murderous, and malicious. What do I say?

    The world is going to Hell in a proverbial handbasket, with those currently in power, callously slamming the levers as far forward as they can - full throttle! I almost can't believe it. Yet recklessness and irresponsibility are becoming more the norm everyday.

   Currently, this is the photo that haunts me.

Muhammad Zakariya Ayyoub al-Matouq, an 18-month old child in Gaza who faces life-threatening malnutrition. Photograph by Anadolu - Getty Images

    There are days when I literally sick of it. 

    STOP!!!

Trinity (July 16, 1945)

"Now I become 'Death: the Destroyer of Worlds'."

Alamogordo, New Mexico, July 16, 1945

"A few people laughed, a few people cried... Most people were silent."

"I supposed we all thought that, one way or another."*

  

*NBC White Papers: 'The Decision to Drop the Bomb' (airdate: 1965-01-05)

 

'A Shot in the Park' + 23

    Twenty-three years ago Brian Vouglas and I collaborated on a birthday spoof created for Karl-Heinz Teuber and his celebrants. Sadly, for the wider public, the 2002 video files have been not available until the present. However, in Karl's memory, this newly reworked version (edited for time and music) can now be enjoyed. ;-) Starring: Brian Vouglas

 

 .

Scopes (backdated)

Oh, I just learned earlier today (July 16, 2025) that we've passed the 100th anniversary of the Scopes "Monkey" Trial (July 10th ~ 21st, 1925).

William Jennings Bryan on the witness stand (left) being questioned by Clarence Darrow (right).

While the actual trial and subsequent appeal had no immediate legal impact, its cultural and sociological legacy still reverberates in the American psyche to this day.

 

Going, Going... Gone!

    For many years, stood the three, proud and tall!

     No more!

Molcajete

    In clearing out the shelving and drawers, to prepare for the work to be done on the kitchen cabinetry, my sister Yvette and I came across this...

    The molcajete (mortar and pestle) once belonging to our grandmother on our father's side. It is probably a century or so old. We wondered whether to continue to hold onto it or not, when I thought to see if the familia Sanchez mostly living in Southern California would like the simple stone instrument passed down to them. 

    I asked our cousin Ruth Gonzalez nee Sanchez, and she was thrilled to have  the heirloom. Grandmother's molcajete is now safely in Ruth's possession. Thank you UPS.

As For Me...

    This Californian State pair is hereby now...

    ...a Real person! Woot!

    Eleven days later, on June 27, 2025, my Drivers' License / Real ID arrived in the post! Yay!

 

 

Beyond This Sheet

Change is afoot.

My sister is having the cabinetry refaced. What once was, since the home was newly constructed, is now...  

    Voila!

    Refacing courtesy of Reborn and Jimmy and Nathan.

 

 

Reborn Home Solutions' on-site auditor. [If it is possible, I'll get the gentleman's name and update the blog.]

 

 

Subcontractors Jimmy and his son Nathan.

 

 

 

 

    UPDATE: Saturday, July 12, 2025

    The refacing is completed! A different crew finished the three remaining drawers.

 

Try As One Might

    Forty six years ago... (I'm always writing about my past. So be it. The past continues in me.) ...I began in earnest to keep my pledge to someone, to set them as free as my heart was capable of doing, and to never cross their path. That rule was only bent on four occasions (three at the insistence of my psychologist, and the last one totally by accidental happenstance). Save for those four exceptions, this individual's life and mine have never crossed.

    I have tried my best, never to darken their day, but now and then our worlds indirectly touch. A few years ago (I may do a backdated post) I stumbled on a Facebook video clip taken in 2017 where the camera swished past this unexpected someone in a pan. Its motion blur did not prevent me from instantly recognizing them. Bump!

    Now, tonight Facebook strikes again!

Redacted to guarantee privacy.

    You see, apart as we two are to each other, she and I still sporadically share many of the same long-time acquaintances. 

    This makes befriending old colleagues online difficult, as I never know who actively, to this day, keeps in touch with with the woman I am doing my best to avoid. The one I call "She". This was the case in the 2017 video incident, wherein I was considering sending a Facebook Friend Request to a past acquaintance having completely overlooked the probability of her own ongoing friendship with him. 

    Surprise, surprise, smack in the video of his I was naively checking out, there she was, front and center, among the videotaped group of guests gathered at his house to celebrate Christmas! Although I should have, I did not see that coming. Talk about a blindside! I still recall the hair-raising shock I experienced!

     Alas as an unintended result of my promise to her, I subsequently had to pass on requesting my former acquaintance's friendship, seeing as she was still involved in his life. Not to have done so would have violated the conditions of my self-imposed exile.

    This time however, it was the algorithm at work, and not my slip-up that bumped our worlds for the present.once again.

    Currently, I have a longtime Facebook Friendship with, my former roommate and mentor from the past. We met fifty four years ago and have always remained in touch. Later on, after he married, he also became a family friend of "She" - her children and his were fast, San Francisco playmates back in the day. (This by the way, was the basis of my near run-in with her at his house in 1991 - the last occasion where my standing rule was bent, albeit by accident. Unawares, I had come to visit his daughters; unaware, she had come to drop off her sons.) 

   His daughters are also Facebook Friends of mine; one of them, very recently.

   Well, it didn't take long then, for the social media site to put things together, and shortly make a friend suggestion on and of its own:

    Tonight, I was just asked if I would perhaps know and like to connect with the son of "She', the younger of her two boys and middle child of three. The younger daughter of my former roommate was his childhood playmate. Again, I should not have been surprised. 

    Yikes!

    Be assured, I will not request to befriend him, I will keep clear, nor use him or his account to learn anything about "She". I will not ingratiate myself nor will I drop my current associations - all these people are innocent - but I will conduct myself with a measured amount of caution and prudence, from this time forward.

    If this female significant and I ever are to run into each other, it must be by accident, or by her wish and instigation, and not through any machination on my part.

    So much folderol some would say, but then again, she's been able to build and live a life completely free and clear of me. 

    I keep my word.

     Solemnly.

2025-07-20 21:30:00

    This time it's the daughter, whose current photo I have just seen. She too is a long-time intimate friend of my Facebook acquaintance. She bears the same first name and was my friend's childhood compatriot and house guest.

    This incident now makes it thrree strikes and I'm totally out of the picture once again! My big words mean nothing!  

    Forgive my invisibility, I feel a little bit low right now. It's hard being absolutely irrelevant. 

    I am superfluous. Forever superfluous.

2025-07-21 00:30:00

    Seeing as superfluousness is a constant condition for me anyway, I merely stepped away for a moment to scribble a few lines of poetry (or "woetry" as I call it). That did the trick and got me outta my funk until the next emotional blow.

    However, just for a second or more, I felt the onset of an even uglier emotion, a dour anxiety that has struck me only a very few times in life. It even goes beyond my unrequited woes to something more dismal, and I have had these horrific attacks even as child. 

     Fortunately, I was able snap myself from going there, and the awfulness ended almost as quickly as it started! Whew! This unspeakable state is almost like all of the "mean reds" and blues thrown together. I just escaped - barely.

 

 

Bad News, Good News, GREAT News...

    As you know from the prior post, I punctured a PVC pipe feeding our sprinklers, that's the bad news, with the good news being that I was able, out of pocket, to have the pipe immediately repaired. Thank you Juan Delgado!

     Well, today I was awakened from my sleep* with a phone from Chris Morales, the Service Manager at Hanlees Fairfield Nissan Nissan proper, informing my sleep-befuddled mind, that Nissan had given his department the green light to have the transmission of my 2018 Nissan Sentra SV replaced a second time. And what's more, absolutely free!

     The vehicle's intermittent mystery shudder, I and the service technicians were experiencing, was finally deemed to be related to the transmission, and as the recent replacement was still under an unlimited miles, three year warranty, Nissan gave the word to proceed with a second replacement.

The interior door to Hanlees Fairfield Nissan's service department.

   By 9:50AM I was able to hand over the car to Hanlees.

    I can only hope, this will do the trick. We shall see.

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON 

    Chris calls with the great news that the Sentra is ready! Christine, their employee later picks me up. Hanlees' technicians have test driven the vehicle with the new transmission, even doing some unrelated work on the rear suspension, and all in all, finding no shudder.

    I get in the car and sense nothing on my way back home, whereas before, there was frequently an incident with a faint but distinctive shudder upon braking and accelerating.

The Exit leading from the Service Department to the parking lot.

*   As to my sleep, I was having a long-ass dream about John Cleese, a daylong live television, special event he was hosting, regarding his past TV productions, and forthcoming series debut. I was in the audience and involved to a point were Cleese knew and called me by name. There were others characters involved, including a fellow audience member seated besides me, who was a reporter and scientific genius. Karl and Brian were also there, trying to get me thrown out by security unless I gave the pair the spotlight. (When I left my seat to help Cleese, Karl first demanded, then stole my place, insisting the seat was rightfully his!) Felix was away in Germany.

    Turns out, that Cleese, the audience member next to me, and an African-American journalist, who was launching her own justice-themed news network, all came to my defense. (The audience member going so far as to interrupt all live media, playing the part of mad scientist bent on world conquest - he was only pretending - to name Karl, Brian, and the security team as his henchmen with the receipts to prove it.) In the end it was Karl and Brian getting themselves ejected, the tables having been turned.

This is One of Those Times I Wish I Had a Time Machine...

Oh dear.

    I thought to surprise my sister with a path light when she got home. She's currently vacationing in Mallorca, Spain. Instead, wouldn't you know it, I badly nick the PVC pipe servicing the front sprinklers while driving in the stake for the light post into the hardened earth!

    I could have exercised greater care in a thousand and one ways, but no, in my eagerness, I thought I was clear of the line until I took that whack too far. This is not going to go down well.

    Damn "Murphy's Law"!

    Luckily, bad as it is, three things so far are in my favor. 

    Firstly, the pipe I struck is leading from its feed valve to the sprinklers. As long as the valves are shut, no water escapes downstream. (the standing water you see in the photos is the residual left over from the now stopped leakage, once I shut the valve, to terminate the flow.)

    Secondly, my next door neighbor Alfred, shares the same Landscaper and Gardener, Juan Delgado.

     Thirdly, Alfred was home when I texted him to see if he had Juan's contact info - he did - and Juan himself was home to answer my subsequent telephone call.

    Juan will stop by the address tomorrow morning at 8:30am to check out the damage. I sent him these two close-up photos as well 

 

Foolishness in evidence

     As I write, I hope, I hope this will cost me not too much out of pocket as I only have a few hundred at my disposal. I also hope the shock of the blow didn't transfer to the control valves.

I thought the line ran perpendicular to the front fence (out of frame at the top of the picture) instead of parallel.

    Oh for a time machine! If I had missed the pipe, my sister would have had solar powered light by which to see the dials on the control valves at night as well as having light on the path. None of that matters now I guess.

UPDATE:

     Hallelujah! Juan Delgado of J&J's Company, came through! He found that the damage was only confined to the puncture and was able to splice a small section of PVC piping to cover the break. 

 

Juan Delgado preparing the PVC couplings (as seen from the outdoor security camera I was also testing).

 

    By the time I returned from a short trip to the bank with the monies, he was done and cleaning up. For what he charged, I gladly and gratefully doubled it. Juan was happy*. 

    What a relief! 

    I did ask him, although, if he could, not to necessarily bring it up with my sister. Yes, I suppose the extra amount was also "hush" money, but Juan Delgado deserved it for saving my neck! Boy, was I in a pickle and ever in need of a rescue!

    2ND UPDATE:

    It was pointed out to me by my good friend, who works in the management business, that it was an unfair thing to ask any silence of Juan, as my sister is his employer. For anyone, to be asked to keep a secret, or divide their loyalties, and work against their boss is a responsibility I haven't any right or authority to level. 

    "Let Juan know that you will tell your sister about the damage you caused, but that you don't when.  That way, he's completely off the hook." 

    My friend is right, and I immediately informed Juan of my decision to tell my sister at the right time. It was emotional panic that prompted my earlier plea. 

     RESOLVE: I swear, on my soul, Never again will I act on my own initiative, with regards to home improvements, ever. The risk was, and is, just too great! And for goodness sake. stop giving ol' "Murphy" the upper hand!

*Juan additionally encouraged me to take greater care the next time, pointing out that the pipes were originally installed at too shallow a depth.  

---

    Here is a personal plug for Juan's great service:

Juan Delgado

J&J's Company

Phone: (707) 857-6346

            (707) 655-7231

Bonded & Insured

License Number: 11716853

Mallorca Bound!

     This week my sisters are spending their holiday on the island of Mallorca.

Yvette and Georgene arrive at their two story accommodations!

    They are staying at the Marriott's Club Son Antem Villa located in Llucmajor, Spain. 

    Upon her return, Yvette said of her and Georgene's one week stay, given that the isle is larger than the state of Rhode Island, there just wasn't enough time to explore everywhere and experience everything. She loved their visit, Mallorca also being the top most travel destination for Europeans because of its Mediterranean climes.

Text

Deluxe Follow-up: "Watch out for that tree!!"

      In 1961 Deluxe Reading followed their 'Man in Space' toy set from the year before with the Deluxe 'Playmobile', a battery-operated* car dashboard affair, complete with turn key, engine sound, working horn and wipers, turn signals, a push and slide button console, adjustable visors and mirror, et cetera. All the play item required then was a passenger or two.

     That's where my sister Angie came in...                                                  

Deluxe Reading Playmobile

     "Watch out for that tree," she cried! "You're taking the turn too tightly! Slow down! We're all gonna die!!"  How Angie relished playing the part of my front seat passenger, a nervous Nellie, hysterically grabbing and clinging to me for her life's sake, impeding my ability to drive! I hadn't even turned on the ignition, before she began strangling me, much less shifting the gear out of "park"! 

     "Oh no, there's a chicken crossing the road!"

      My mom well remembers how beset this luckless driver was by my over-the-top, overwrought sib! It was one of her favorite recollections, especially my ending up having to call out for rescue from Angie. Who knew, how terrifying a drive could be, having never even left the kitchen table!

     *It took six D cells to power the device!

"Who Will be Next..."

 "...to launch Man in Space?"

Gantry, rocket launcher

 

   This commercial from that time answers that!

    I still remember* how absolutely large my eyes were and agape my mouth became when I tore open the Christmas wrapping to uncover the  Deluxe Reading 'Man in Space: Operation X-500' toy assembly within! "Wow! What a toy!"

1960 Ad art

Fuller advertisement copy

    $11.88 for the complete set?! Sounds like a steal! However, that would be roughly $126.24 in today's skyrocketing prices! (Pun intended.) Like, out of this world! Astronomical!

*Funny thing: memory. I vividly recall many elements of the set, while other items not at all!

The Grass is Greener

 

Launching a new lawn.

Out goes the old lawn, or in this case, went the old lawn. In with the new! Courtesy of our landscaper/gardener, Juan Delgado.

 

Purdy

 

April: What a Start!

.

Northwood Drive	- Serenity on the surface. Yet even the Sentra is deceptively guised.

     Don't let the serene scenery fool ya. It's been a bitch!

    All the simple little things, each beginning innocently enough and as innocuously as one could expect or should expect, only to become full fledged hassles, every last one of them.

     First there was my brand new, Canon EOS R8 camera (a carry-over from March) that was defective right out of the box. By the start of this week it had returned repaired, and past my initial test. However, I had to wait until midweek to buy a protection plan, now that I had sufficient funds.

     While I was waiting for the monies, I noticed that our equally brand new Xumo stream box was blinking incessantly. A recommended restart should correct it. It did, but only for a short spell. The blinking returned. Now the service was intermittently failing to launch. Then the signal from the box was altogether lost. So I had to take a whole day running down every technical scenario as to what and where the malfunction could be. That there is no user manual available, physical or online, save for the half page quick start guide, did not help. In the end, I had to speak to two Xfinity support agents, and neither could restore the box. They arranged to have a field technical come to the house.

    Meanwhile, my sister was having trouble, getting into her online banking account, which wouldn't recognize her legitimate password. Nevertheless, it also wouldn't let her reset the password, and she was forced to wait for a live agent. Finally, when they came on the line, it took more than an hour to resolve the technical system snafu. My sister was not at fault.

     Now, her BMW key fob was weakening, indicating a need to have its battery changed. Did I know how to open the battery compartment? My sister could not see a way, nor could I. So I went to the internet, to find an answer. Would you believe hers was the key fob series made before BMW switched over to replaceable batteries! Yes with some soldering and Crazy Glue the battery could technically be changed out for another, or one could just fork over $500 bucks for a new key fob. Screw that! All my sister needed to do was pull out her second fob. Now where she keep it?

    She was also having her taxes prepared. This year my tax information, would play a part, but in order for the tax preparer could proceed, the IRS rewired one extra item: my IP Pin number. Did I happen to know it offhand? I knew of no such pin. In all my IRS dealings, no mention of an Identity Protection pin was ever addressed. So I went to MyIRS to find out as April 15th was rapidly approaching.

     There was no direct reference to the pin listed in my account profile. I searched under help, to learn if there was a way discover if there was a number associated to my Social Security Number. There was. I could request to retrieve the number online simply by supplying some key information.

    I started the process. Oh dear, my street address is wrong. Easy enough, I'll merely update the information. No can do. It turns, I will have to download, fill out, and physically submit by snail mail to Kansa City, a Form 8822 Change of Address in order to effect the update. Once approved, the I can retrieve the number online (if indeed I have one assigned to me in the first place). But that will take weeks and weeks! I will have to call IRS which is the second option.

    In the mean time, MyIRS is strongly urging me to register with ID.me in order to facilitate my sign-in(s). I commence those proceedings. I just need my California Driver's License. I supply the number and image... Nope, not sufficient! Please submit your Passport and License, oh and your portrait. I set up the webcam. Done. Nada. Now I'm being asked to add my SSN card. Okay, I'll go along, sure.

     No how, no way! A direct video call is necessary to complete my registration! An hour later, Conrad (Conner?) from ID.me has me hold the three pieces of evidence up to the webcam before my identity can be established. The proof now approved, the registration is concluded and my password accepted. Whew!

     That leaves the matter of the IP Pin.

    Early, the next morning, I get on the horn with the IRS. Surprisingly, there is no waiting for the agent, who answer immediately. Here's the short: After, a short 45 minutes it comes down to this. There is fact an IP Pin attached to my IRS/SSN account. (Years ago, Identity Theft was assumed regarding a 48 year old systems mix-up with another individual. Only the IRS never apprised me of the pin number.

   Unfortunately, the agent could not divulge the number over the phone. He could issue a new one though and have that number sent to me. Regrettably, that procedure would require a minimum of three weeks to finalize, making that April the 23rd, eight days after the Tax filing deadline for my sister. Here's what she could do instead: turn in her taxes by mail, that would defeat the electronic online IP Pin challenge. It would necessarily delay my sister's return by a few months, but she would still to claim her deductions. I am relieved to know on a side note that the order of my name, was not an issue. Additionally, my address was updated in the phone call.

    I inform my sister, whose passes the suggestion to her tax preparer. Will do.

    The Xfinity technician pays a house-call. He tries all the solutions I tried days earlier, even the Ethernet cable. No signal, fer shur. Retrieving a second Xumo stream box from his equipment truck, he plugs it in. Signal, but no set-up! It is failing to complete! This has never happened to him he exclaims! After bringing in a third box - success! Score: two broken boxes; one good!

    Uh-oh, now my sister, in the other room, is having difficult with her online banking! The sign-in won't accept her legitimate password, nor will it permit her to reset it! It just hangs! Only after an hour on the phone with a representative, does the person move the process forward. The password is reset and her sign-in successful.

    A day later, she finds her second key fob, and I, after some searching, the information to Car Keys Express, the company that supplied me with a replacement fob.

     April 4th, sees my Canon 4 Year CarePak protection plan go into effect, covering March 3, 2025 - March 2, 2029. 

    Oh me, oh my, this time it's my Adobe Premiere Elements 2025 which has been getting sicker and sicker by the month. I suspect the cause to be a corrupted file that was carried over from my last laptop during the file and system transfer. In any case, the video won't properly play, but freezes or glitches wildly, rendering the editing impossible and the final pass superfluous. Sigh.

    I told you. You were warned. This month has started with a bust! Tranquility Base here,... Kablam!

    WHOA NO!!

    On Friday, April 11th, the front passenger door lock on my 2018 Nissan Sentra SV suddenly stops responding* to any of the interior or exterior buttons and to the remote control key fob. I must now manually unlock or lock the door by physically flipping the lock mechanism in order to release or secure the said front passenger door!
 
    Hanlees Fairfield Nissan, where I immediately took the car, told me it would cost $230 to run a diagnostic on the door. I just spent $210 on a new Canon camera lens two hours earlier,** thinking I would still be left with $220 in my bank account! Now I will have to wail until the beginning of the month to have sufficient funds to be able to commence the diagnostic.
 
    Fortunately, I also apprised Hanlees of the transmission shudder, so that separate concern will be address for free when I am able to return at the beginning of the month.
 
    *The lock fully responded only once to the electronic release. Now, the door mechanism barely moves to the electronic command, which leads me to suspect a manual malfunction of the apparatus.
 
    **Would you believe it?! I made the purchase, thinking nothing else was likely to occur! Less than two hours later, the door lock, gives up the ghost! Additionally, the amount I just spent was nearly equal to the amount I would now need for the diagnostic alone! Aaugh!

Honkers!

“One with dinosaurs and volcanoes in it!”

That was my tall order to our dad, who would usually, when he went out Friday nights, return with some comic books for my twin sister and I.

I was utterly blown away when, a few hours later, he produced this!

'Turok, Son of Stone' Issue: 20 Jun-Aug 1960

'Turok, Son of Stone' created the year I was born (1954) was my favorite comic book series as a youth.

Ugh.

    On the 7th of March with the help of my siblings, I was able to purchase a brand new Canon EOS R8 mirrorless camera body through Walmart's generous offer of $400,00 off the retail price. Due to my finances, and my never having issues with Canon's product reliability, I decided to hold off buying an extended warranty, which is something I otherwise customarily do. "Uh-oh," I hear you say, "I can see where this going!"

A cropped still frame from the 2025-03-10 unboxing video.

    Well, for the very first time in my 44 years of Canon photographic equipment ownership, something was awry with the performance of the camera body, although I did not know it at first. There was a stark white vertical line in both the viewfinder and LCD screens and a corresponding white crosshair in the playback. (See below.) 

    Initially, I thought they were deliberate, perhaps acting as a frame of reference of some sort. Eventually, I surmised, I would learn how to disable the unusual feature. However, after a week of pouring through the 937 page instruction manual, I could find no mention or depiction of the lines.

    Then I discovered, the crosshair was ending up in my actual images. It wasn't confined to the camera screens! 

    Ugh.

    Having alerted my sister, I proceeded to contact Canon Chat. When the technician had me do a factory reset - it failed - he postulated the likelihood of a sensor malfunction.

    So now the R8 is on its way to Canon for a warranty repair.

The sensor anomaly with a lens attached.

The sensor anomaly without.

     We shall see, as they say, and hopefully, it won't be the image artifact when the body is returned.

UPDATE: The repair was successful and the return effected in short order. I still have to test the other functions as time goes by.

Moon's Eye View

    From my neck of the woods, last night’s lunar eclipse was a washout due to cloudy weather. Fortunately, the Moon’s view of Earth has no such problem with overcast.

    Firefly Aerospace's Blue Ghost Mission 1: Ghost Riders in the Sky, was able to relay the eclipse as seen from its lunar lander.

    Oh, and about the lunar eclipse itself, I came about these interesting tidbits on NASA's Astronomy Picture of the Day (APOD) website:

    "On March 14 the Moon was Full. In an appropriate celebration of Pi day, that put the Moon 3.14 radians (180 degrees) in ecliptic longitude from the Sun in planet Earth's sky. As a bonus for fans of Pi and the night sky, on that date the Moon also passed directly through Earth's umbral shadow in a total lunar eclipse."  [Again] "...the moon [was] Pi radians from the Sun at exactly 06:55 UTC. That's about three minutes before the midpoint of the March Full Moon's total lunar eclipse."

    Neat!

During the eclipse.

Just moments after totality.

The Earth days before the lunar eclipse.

 

The Earth and the "Diamond Ring" effect just after totality.

I’m Reminded of Another Coincidence

 

‘Claws for Alarm’ Warner Bros. (1954)

    With the previous post (see its addendum), I am reminded of an earlier coincidence that occurred some thirty years ago.

   I once had a surprising coincidence alphabetically looking up a word in the dictionary, when I chance to happen on another I didn’t know. It caught my curious eye while I was also turning on the TV set, and waiting for it to warm up. As I was reading the definition of the second word, I could hear the voice of Porky Pig on the tele, reprimanding a terrified Sylvester the cat*. “You eb, eb, pol-troon of a chicken cat, you!’ “Poltroon” was the very entry before me!

    Here is the line as delivered by Porky (voiced by Mel Blanc):      "Th-Th... That's all, folks!"

 

*‘Claws for Alarm’ Warner Bros. (1954)

Dinosaurs!

    At almost seven (March 1961) what topic was there that could absorb my interest more? I think I'm even gazing on the Tyrannosaurus Rex!

    ADDENDUM: On the day I posted these pictures, I noticed the word "epiphyte" on the cover of Book 5 of The Golden Book Encyclopedia series (see below). What's that, I wondered, having never heard of the term [I already knew the meaning of "daguerreotype"]. So, I looked "epiphyte" up in the Golden Book, and found out. 

    The very next day, I heard that exact same term referred to in passing, as part of an alliteration in a YouTube science video! What a coincidence! Sixty-four years later, looks like I just learned the definition in time! The 1959 encyclopedia was still teaching me anew!

March 1961

Dinosaurs! The Golden Book Encyclopedia (1959), Book 5, Pages 420 & 421

The Golden Book Encyclopedia (1959), Book 5 Cover (slightly cropped)

Some Treasured Space Maps I Once Had as a Child

    And rediscovered online via the University of Wisconsin Milwaukee, The American Geographical Society Library Digital Map Collection! 

    From Rand McNally & Co. (1958)

    My personal favorite: The Universal Map of Outer Space.

Rand McNally Universal Map of Outer Space (reverse side only)

    This colorful map even has the distinction of making an uncredited appearance in one of sci fi's most iconic film from the 1950's, serving as the literal backdrop to actor Edward Innes' character: Brigadier General Alan Prescott.

As seen in 'The Angry Red Planet' (1959)

   I wore out the paper map early from overuse.

   Then there was the second map, which lasted until the mid 1970's before becoming too tattered to keep: the Rand McNally Space Map and Moon Map. Here is the obverse side.

    As a kid, I didn't like the aesthetic of the moon being split into two halves, as shown below, but that was before I learned to read. I also thought the mechanical fingers of the above space man in orange, right hand looked broken, as though they were limply dangling. Maybe that's why he's drawing his hand up to his visor: to check out what's wrong. I didn't realize then that he merely had his robotic palm facing upward. WAIT A SECOND! The hand is still messed up! With the palm and fingers turned upwards, the opposable thumb is on the incorrect side. That space man has TWO LEFT HANDS! My younger self was right to notice the mistake after all!

   The Rand McNally Space Map and Moon Map's reverse side.

The links to UWM's digital collection:

UWM's Rand McNally Space Map and Moon Map (obverse side)

UWM's Rand McNally Space Map and Moon Map (reverse side)

UWM's Rand McNally Universal Map of Outer Space (reverse side only)

DSB (The Billion Year Version)

  -This Post is Slowly Under Construction-

    (It may take a few months.)

    At first, it was with some enthusiasm I thought to make good the promise I made in a recent post, to shortly recount the personal events that transpired on the evening of Sunday, January 26th, 1975. (See the 2025-01-26 post I wrote commemorating the 50th anniversary of that long ago eve.) Then the misgivings started to take hold. The endeavor, I feared, was fraught with the potential to be greatly misunderstood.

    For starters, a straight forward, play-by-play rundown, a bare bones sequence of events, without context, without couching, would likely than not, precipitate readers jumping to preconceived but erroneous conclusions. Yet, who can know, or has the time to learn my personal psychology and history. Who too, knows the whole of the public persona with respect to the other key figure involved in this tale, as experienced by me (and not to mention even some of her closest associates)? Who has witnessed this person’s myriad behaviors from day one, or dealt with the questions certain of her actions have raised? Plainly put: one would have to have been there; not only for this event, but for the entirety of my existence and witness. Hell, it’s taken up fifty years of my thinking alone, just to come to grips with all the ramifications of this particular experience, and I’m the one who was present!

    If a lack of background, unavailable to the reader wasn’t enough with which to contend, then more aggravating still, in my simply trying to relay what occurred, is the pernicious linearity of language, Its word-following-word, ticker tape aspect is dauntingly slow. Nor does it help, that while the readers are doing their best to piece my thought together, the individual words themselves can have any number of different meanings and senses to them. The temptation and tendency therefore, for others to jump the gun or wrongly finish my thoughts for me is enormous. “I see where you’re headed.” Misunderstandings are bound to occur.

    So, I suppose, the only reader, who can truly understand the words I will henceforth lay out, and the way I mean them, will be me. That's fair. Which is why, all things considered, I write this blog partly with an audience of one - namely myself - largely in mind. Yet that only raises the question of why then I would bother to write.

    Let's face it, it's a testimony I’m about to perform here, and clearly going "on the record" to make myself at last "be heard" (by others) as no one else will or can speak for me. There's a part of my effort then, that truly wants to be acknowledged by another other than myself. Indeed, not being recognized, i.e, heard, seen, or read, will be an important, if not the most important, takeaway from my post.

    Dammit! now I’m having the strongest inclination to address this post straight to the one who continues to affect me! Richard, I tell myself, you can’t! It’s way too personal about the attributes of the other, some of them intimate! Yet I will go mad if I if don’t express what’s been bottled up all these decades. For I'm going to relay the one event that proved the second biggest paradigm shift of my entire life (the first was when I initially laid eyes on you.) How can this not lead to you being the one whose heart I wanted to address? 

     Anyhow this latter epiphany was all triggered by the most unlikely circumstance.  

     However, just on the rare chance someone should accidentally stumble upon this post, bear with me as I will have to preface all that is to momentarily begin, by covering a few extra points/disclaimers.  

    My apologies for the already lengthy setup...

•  First and foremost: No one herein is guilty - of anything. In what follows, it may seem like I am trying to assign blame as I try to understand the nature of personal responsibility, but I am not faulting anyone. 
•  I'm going to be giving my subjective impressions of the key individual on which this account and my whole world is centered. While my impressions are undoubtedly suffuse with whatever biases, misconceptions, and prejudices, I may be carrying, consciously or not, still, they are not solely limited to my interpretation alone. Others have noted the same patterns of behaviors, independent of me. We may be entirely wrong in our perception of this person, but this the way this individual came across. 

• That there is a sexual component greatly underpinning this incident, surely muddies the waters, yet biology is purely biology, and again no one is to be faulted. However, given the sexual undercurrent at play, also means we are not any of us, acting in a void.

 

    A diary.

    The Sunday evening in question...

   It is the 26th of January 1975, and my memory of the incident begins at about five minutes to seven PM. I am sitting alone in the high school classroom of my church, back when the latter was known as Bethel Temple. In the first row of folding chairs facing east and nearest that end of the renovated space (the large room used to be the church’s main kitchen) I toil, putting the finishing touches on the poster I have been tasked to create. It is a promotional for the Christian rock band of which I  a member. ‘Dayspring’ was our name. 

    As the start of services is only mere minutes away, I will have to pause, and resume the work later. After the service is when I’ll have chance to hang the poster next to the front entry of the church, announcing Dayspring’s upcoming performance. In five days we’ll be onstage, Friday January 31st, at Bethel Temple’s weekly Youth Service.

    While excited at the prospect of performing again in a few days, I am also a wee bit forlorn at the moment albeit for completely unrelated reasons. I have spent this day between the morning and evening services all by myself and another day apart from the only woman that means any and everything to me. That would be you. You even managed to turn twenty-one six days prior with no well wishes or celebratory participation as yet on my part.

    To think, you’re only across the hall, in the sanctuary, at choir rehearsal. Having fun, while I sit by myself as usual. Oh, the time again! The Young Sounds are breaking up having finished their weekly, hour long practice. I can hear their individual banter spreading out throughout the church. Time for me to stop work and eventually rise. There’s a guest missionary speaker from Brazil speaking tonight. He always gets into a sweaty frenzy. That’s all I need: another service, yards apart from you, having to wait for its conclusion before I’ll a chance perhaps to approach you. And with this guest, who knows how long church will be? I hear some light laughter immediately in the foyer hallway outside. The youth choir dispersing.      

    Why ever did they change my suggested name “Young Sound” to “The Young Sounds” —

   Then to speak of the Devil, from the far door at the other end of the room you enter. My back is to your hurried words of greeting: “Hi Richard!”

    Before I have the time to turn, you swish by. I should perhaps add to my return greeting with a birthday felicitation but my words catch in my throat. You meantime barely have a moment to reflect on anything but your explanation as you retrieve an item from the closet cabinet ahead. Moving like a whirlwind you are, as I looked on stunned. I don’t think I even saw or heard what you were after.

    Your dress, your skirt… it is the shortest attire you wore to date! It almost rivals that of your younger sister or the two [■■■■]*!

     Swooping out the room, without the slightest thought or concern, you flit. I am immobile. Stuck to my folding chair, and doing all to piece myself together. Billions of years of biology are beginning to boil over and I must somehow stymie all those eons of brute nature. My mind has snapped, and not in a good way, for there is no outlet for my sudden desire. I cannot enter the service across the way, but must now remain behind, holding a tight reign on my turmoil. The emotions are everywhere, but I cannot cry out or react - good or bad!

     What I feel, it’s personal, and nothing directly to do with religious settings and circumstances about me, or the religion itself , although those extra layers of social repression don’t exactly help. I cannot have you. You won’t let me—

    Quiet, Richard, quiet! Calm your hurt; your stress. Yet, the eons are on a rampage. They know what they want. I do too. It’s gonna be a bumpy night… 

    The minutes slow to a crawl. Your indifference shatters my confidence. Your person now has total rule over me as I wait the long minutes knowing I must look on you again. There’s no fooling myself. I pay the intercom broadcasting the missionary’s fervency barely the slightest notice. My fires are much greater.

   I try to distract my mind. Is that skirt a part of your having to work for Pacific Southwest Airlines (PSA) I wonder? One of their trademarks is the look of their female staff. [■■■■] got you that job, did he not? Concentrate, concentrate.

    Finally, the service is over, and believe it or not, I have managed to steel myself to whatever follows, though I also know there is an undercurrent lurking not too deep within me. However, I am functional for the moment, and therefore, to that degree, socially presentable… so I venture forth.

    I exit the classroom with the poster in tow; headed for the Sunday school office where the supplies I need are kept. Holy molé, tacos and frijoles, you’re also in the office! Talk about a blessing and a curse! Heaven and Hell! We pleasantly small talk as I take a seat facing the office door. I finish up applying tape to the front side of the Dayspring poster while you busy yourself behind me with your administrative duties as the assistant Sunday school superintendent.

    Oh, if I could only swivel in my seat, but I am trying to play it cool - nonchalant. You see, despite my sexual turmoil mixed with my inner repression and outward diffidence, there is also the unwritten social contract long inculcated into me. I must be honorable, chivalrous, curbing my “animal” impulse in the name of your “purity”. It stinks on the face of it, but in a way I actually am trying to moderate myself because I really do care about you. At some level, I truly don’t want to offend you in the slightest. Yet, the lust in my heart - it’s as unadulterated as your virtue! And I have it something terrible!

    The horns of a dilemma have me skewered. And they’re about to twist.

    Mrs. [■■■■ ■■■■] appears at the door. “[■■■■], have you some pencils?”

    Omigod, the pencils!

    In an instant of time, several simultaneous alarms and thoughts go off inside of me! I know where the boxes of pencils are kept! I was just recently up there. At the highest point of the room, where one has to climb atop the desktop to reach the top of the overhead supply cabinets, sit the boxes sit atop and above the cabinets!

    What to do? Should I interject myself and volunteer to get the pencils? Yet that might call attention to your skirt and my awareness of it. Awkwardsville, for one and all. And if I don't do the gentlemanly thing, what then? So should I wait for you to ask me, thereby once again bringing notice to your attire...

    But before my thoughts can fully form, and while I'm only beginning to gasp, I hear the unmistakably distinct sound of a folding chair being scooted into position! You reflexively ascend to the top of the table behind me almost without a thought. 

    Now, the unfairness starts. My blood begins to boil. Now all the onus is entirely on me to refuse to turn around! I fume and look toward [■■■■]. Suddenly, she seems just as caught off guard, but in a world weary sort of way. There's almost no expression on her face, as her matronly eyes remain leveled on the hem of your skirt, never once veering away. I imagine the thoughts her gray, undaunted eyes reflect. (See my fragmentary poem in the earlier post.) Is it envy, insight, or pity?

    You reach up, your hem hiking in the process, as you take hold of the pencil box and shortly descend with the goods. Angrily, I stand to my feet and excusing myself, make my way past [■■■■]. I know she cannot come to my defense, but like me, is as unable to do anything about what just transpired. I don't even she said "thank you" to you. She just nodded upon receipt of the pencil.    

    Retreating to the vestibule, here's what blew my cool:

-FIN-

*[■■■■]=[Name redaction: first, last, or both. Color coded to reflect specific individuals.]

 

Eons old biology in which personhood is, figuratively speaking, but an emergent afterthought

Miasma

I am responsible for my actions; not my reactions.

It's exasperating trying to figure you out

PK's

Circumspect pk carry yourself who must never bring reproach

Violate your personal integrity.

Letter spirit observation by another who personally knew you

A master of plausible deniability

Toying baiting

Maybe you didn't care. Maybe you did and wanted to get it over with. Or maybe you subconsciously jumped at the chance. Anyway, I can't think you totally unaware.

Again my subjective POV

Withering excoriating blistering rebuttal from the other perspective.

If I am ignored, who do I ignore?

We are all, in part, victims of circumstances outside of our control

Ethnicity white/brown fair/foul

Swarthy POC

Glass wall

Out in the literal cold

Window shopping

YS practice.

Speak of the D-

PSA [■■■■] got you

El's, Tr, LK, R

Before I have the second time to turn and rise, my ears hear the distinct sound

Retreating to the vestibule 

Blind, brute, billion year nature

But I’d be the one to blame

deliberately conscious act

 

Have the right to put anyone on public display, even if no at all will read my post. Yet so tired am I of being invisible, of having to make myself completely disappear time and again for you. My story, my side is the one never expressed. I weary of the sacrifice, when I would rather bespeak my feelings, and have you know them: the good and the bad, the troubling and the gentle. Your life has been lived - free. My life, shunted to the shadows; the silence.