Twitter, Why Doth Thou Thwart Me So?

Alas and alack, I am saddened, dear Twitter, by thy inability to do what I want-eth you to do.  Did I not make-eth thee my friend and confidant, lo these many long months?

Yet thee insist-eth on thwarting my every move regarding my profile description. Thy refusal to do as I want-eth you to do regarding punctuation on said profile description bespeak-eth of your inclination to be with bug.  Here is what I desire-eth.

Yikes and away!  Whither thou go-eth my beloved punctuation?

Verily I beg of thee, thy social media giant, to put-eth back my punctuation where I want-eth it.  Not on the morrow, my liege, but on this very day.

Thanks be to thee, my provider of instant communication, for hearing the plea of thy humble user… BUT WAIT A MINUTE.  What. hath. thou. done. now?

Forsooth and anon, I shall look-eth upon thy service as something very optional in my life.  That is unless thy clean-eth up thy act and restore-eth my faith in thee, ye olde Twitter.  Only then, will-eth we be friends and confidants again, I say-eth unto thee on this fine day.

Reflections On A Vacation Not Taken

“I do not know everything;  still many things I understand.”  ~ Goethe

It’s unseasonably warm and slightly overcast here this morning.  I’m all for this unusually warm weather.  I don’t need the sunshine to make me feel like winter is over.  The warmth alone is enough to give my spirits a boost.

I got up later than my usual 6:00 a.m. today and decided to drink my morning coffee out on our screened-in porch.  We keep two old chairs and a make-shift table out there all winter long– just in case the weather allows us the opportunity to sit outside.

I got thinking as I sat outside this morning.  When Z-D and I sat down in early January to plan our vacation days, we had thought that we’d go somewhere together in March.  A spring escape to get away from the crushing gray of winter was what we had in mind.

At first we were going to San Diego.  Then it was Desert Springs.  Then it was Phoenix.  Then it was Tucson.  Then it was L.A.

But nothing would fit together quite right… his work schedule, our frequent flyer miles, our frequent snoozer points, our attitudes.  It just didn’t work for us.  So, we gave up the idea of vacationing in March.  There’s always April, we said.

However, now that I’ve spent a warm mellow morning out on our porch I have to admit that staying at home seems like a good idea.  Nice to hang out at home in my jammies and slippers.  Wonderful to kick back and plan my day with a mug of coffee at hand.  Very pleasant and rejuvenating.  Just like a late winter vacation in March, only much less expensive.

All of which makes me wonder if going on a vacation in April will be worth the bother.  We’ll see, of course.  Time– and hotel/airline prices– will tell.

Those Were The Days. Not.

“Boy, the way Glenn Miller played…”

I’ve had the theme song from All In The Family trapped in my head for the last few days.  Most unpleasant.  I’m not entirely sure how the song got there.  I haven’t been watching much TV besides reruns of The Big Bang Theory— which are on a hip channel that is the antithesis of a nostalgic channel that’d be showing Archie & Edith.

So I don’t think that I’ve seen any commercials that would have put that song into my head.  Wonder where it came from?

“Guys like us, we had it made…”

I never really liked All In The Family when I first saw it on TV.  I understood that Archie was a reactionary, selfish male.  I got that Edith was a doormat who never stood up for herself due to some misguided sense of duty toward Archie.  And I realized that Gloria, in her attempts to help her mother, was locked in an never-ending battle with her father.

“Didn’t need no welfare state…”

But the satire of the show was lost on me.  In fact it wasn’t until a few years ago that it dawned on me that some people weren’t laughing at Archie.  That instead, some people were laughing with Archie.  I have my FIL to thank for that revelation.

“Gee, our old LaSalle ran great…”

I couldn’t tell you when I last saw an episode of All In The Family.  I imagine that if I saw it now, I’d probably get the two-sided humor and enjoy it.  I’m older, wiser, and much more open to different points of view– as happens when you mature and are comfortable with who you are.  So the satire might appeal to me now.

“And you knew who you were then…”

But, quite frankly, with all the political nonsense that is going on in the USA now, I don’t think that I’m up to watching yet another old white male pontificate on things that he knows nothing about.  My patience for such rhetoric, humorous as it can sometimes be, is all used up.

“Mister, we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again…”

Which, now that I think about it, might explain why this theme song has infiltrated my brain.  Discourse during these last few weeks, to put it politely, has involved way too much looking backward and not enough going forward.  Reminding me, and any woman who can think for herself, that trapped in the past is no way to live.

Don’t fool yourself, those weren’t the days.

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“Those Were The Days”
by Lee Adams and Charles Strouse

Boy, the way Glen Miller played. Songs that made the hit parade.
Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days.
Didn’t need no welfare state. Everybody pulled his weight.
Gee, our old LaSalle ran great. Those were the days.
And you know who you were then, girls were girls and men were men.
Mister, we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again.
People seemed to be content. Fifty dollars paid the rent.
Freaks were in a circus tent. Those were the days.
Take a little Sunday spin, go to watch the Dodgers win.
Have yourself a dandy day that cost you under a fin.
Hair was short and skirts were long. Kate Smith really sold a song.
I don’t know just what went wrong. Those Were The Days.

[source]

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Planning Ahead

… following Belle of the Carnival’s lead, I’m writing and posting my blogging obituary.  Read more about this exercise in “what-if-ness” here

My Pretend Obituary As A Real Blogger

Ally Bean, guiding light of the blogosphere and quiet voice of sanity in the real world, has passed away peacefully at her home while reading blogs in her Google Reader.

Ms. Bean first came to the world of blogging in 2004 when she decided to keep a personal blog of her own.  Said blog was filled with much flapdoodle and twaddle.  This was a tradition she continued in all her subsequent blogs– taking care to not take herself too seriously.

In the real world Ms. Bean was a tireless advocate of all things bloggy.  In her early days of blogging, she spent lots of time explaining yet again to the uninformed masses what a blog was– and where it was– and why everyone should read hers.  Which is to say that Ms. Bean talked to concrete walls quite frequently back then.

Later as blogging became more mainstream, Ms. Bean helped many people start their first blogs.  She was always willing to talk of cabbages and kings of html and links.  She was more than happy to explain the details of her experiences in various blogging platforms as well as to commiserate about the suckiness of comment trolls and content thieves.

In later life when asked about her contributions to the blogosphere Ms. Bean demurely suggested that as a warm, down-to-earth, quirky blogger she had reached tens of tens who considered her posts to be amusing, insightful & informative.  She wryly noted that she did not reach a single, solitary person who had any interest in paying her for her work.

In lieu of flowers Ms. Bean asked that comments be placed on her blog, The Spectacled Bean.  She also suggested that everyone who keeps a blog and reads this post should do this same thing i.e. write your own blogging obituary.  And then link back to me [no, wait… I meant to say] this post [wait…] obituary.  That’s it: link back to this pretend obituary.  Please.

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After I posted the above, Mike, who is Notoriously Nice, tweeted me the link to Tombstone Generator.  Here’s what I made for my pretend blogging grave.  😉

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