I discovered something fascinating about Facebook.
No, I'm not going to talk about the privacy (or lack thereof) thing, or how Mark Zuckerberg plans on taking over the world -- and probably will.
I'm talking about the "edit profile" pages where it asks for your interests, which is fine, but it keeps asking who you enjoy doing things with -- like I only enjoy playing tennis with one person or horseback riding on one horse??
It even asks who you like to read with. Really? Sure, with a cat on my lap, but you don't exactly read WITH someone. I guess Facebook's creators think if you are on Facebook it's because you just can't stand to be alone.
28 February 2011
25 February 2011
Dusting for Prints
I have a garden variety flip-phone cell phone. It has little buttons on which I find it ridiculously hard to send a text message.
Sometimes I watch people with iPhones and other "smart" phones use their touch screens and it really grosses me out.
Those touch screens display, along with "apps" for calculating tips (it's quicker to have a tip cheat sheet next to your credit card), sending stupid photos and, my personal favorite, amusing your cat, smears of grease, dust and good enough fingerprints to get a 12-point match.
I hope those touch-screeners keep the phone close at hand and don't commit any crimes.
Since colds are spread from germs through handshakes, I bet zillions of germs live on those nasty screens.
Plague anyone?
Sometimes I watch people with iPhones and other "smart" phones use their touch screens and it really grosses me out.
Those touch screens display, along with "apps" for calculating tips (it's quicker to have a tip cheat sheet next to your credit card), sending stupid photos and, my personal favorite, amusing your cat, smears of grease, dust and good enough fingerprints to get a 12-point match.
I hope those touch-screeners keep the phone close at hand and don't commit any crimes.
Since colds are spread from germs through handshakes, I bet zillions of germs live on those nasty screens.
Plague anyone?
09 February 2011
Me and Kathie Lee
It's good to have someone you can relate to on TV.
Most people on TV seem very young. Very. Young.
That's why I occasionally catch the last hour of the Today Show. Kathie Lee Gifford is not very young. We are pretty much contemporaries.
It's nice to hear someone admit she gets up in the middle of the night to put on lip gloss. If you don't know why, you are also Very Young.
I also love that she doesn't pretend to like rap "music." That she tells it like it is about kids growing up too fast, about lascivious behavior on TV, about the random silliness that seems to dominate the attention of our nation.
Kathie Lee has always called 'em as she sees 'em, but it's comforting to know a major network is cool with that and with somebody who isn't Very Young.
Most people on TV seem very young. Very. Young.
That's why I occasionally catch the last hour of the Today Show. Kathie Lee Gifford is not very young. We are pretty much contemporaries.
It's nice to hear someone admit she gets up in the middle of the night to put on lip gloss. If you don't know why, you are also Very Young.
I also love that she doesn't pretend to like rap "music." That she tells it like it is about kids growing up too fast, about lascivious behavior on TV, about the random silliness that seems to dominate the attention of our nation.
Kathie Lee has always called 'em as she sees 'em, but it's comforting to know a major network is cool with that and with somebody who isn't Very Young.
08 February 2011
The Hardest Blog to Write
Nero died on Tuesday.
He was a dog, but not just any dog. He was my friend, my traveling companion, my comfort. He was the one my children clung to when they were sad, played with when they were happy.
He was an old dog, nearly 13, which is good for a big dog, more than 60 pounds, but he thought he was a pup, playing in the snow up until a few days before he died. Sure, his back legs would get stiff, he would have been on glucosamine soon. The front leg that he broke in 2006 would pain him at night on occasion, he would lick it as he fell asleep. And he was on a supplement to help with accidental piddling and we knew his kidneys wouldn't hold up forever. But still, he acted young. The tale never stopped and he ran up and down with a silly stuffed animal in his mouth.
He got sick on a Sunday night and Monday the vet said his heart and lungs were strong although he wasn't eating and had an "accident" on the floor of the vet's office to his abject embarrassment. Doc thought he might get through it, but, although he took his medicine willingly that night, the next morning, he just laid down and closed his eyes for the last time.
He was smarter than we were. He knew it was his time. He knew if it wasn't this it would be something else, soon. He was ready and he was at peace. His front paws were crossed like he used to do. His long, long tail, with the happy white tip, was stretched out. He wouldn't have been happy ill and infirm. I just hope I can be like that when the time comes.
Nero was ready for whatever comes next. I like to think it is the Rainbow Bridge. That he is young again, with his 7 siblings, all of whom died earlier than he. That there is a place for them to run and play and wait to be joined by the humans whose lives they filled.
A wise friend told me Nero is still alive in my heart. He is.
When a pet dies, people ask if you will get another. No dog can ever replace Nero any more than a new baby can replace a child that dies. But if someday I see a dog and feel in my heart that Nero is telling me this is right, I will adopt it. I know he will guide me in what I should do.
Nero died this week. My life is richer for having been loved by a good dog.
He was a dog, but not just any dog. He was my friend, my traveling companion, my comfort. He was the one my children clung to when they were sad, played with when they were happy.
He was an old dog, nearly 13, which is good for a big dog, more than 60 pounds, but he thought he was a pup, playing in the snow up until a few days before he died. Sure, his back legs would get stiff, he would have been on glucosamine soon. The front leg that he broke in 2006 would pain him at night on occasion, he would lick it as he fell asleep. And he was on a supplement to help with accidental piddling and we knew his kidneys wouldn't hold up forever. But still, he acted young. The tale never stopped and he ran up and down with a silly stuffed animal in his mouth.
He got sick on a Sunday night and Monday the vet said his heart and lungs were strong although he wasn't eating and had an "accident" on the floor of the vet's office to his abject embarrassment. Doc thought he might get through it, but, although he took his medicine willingly that night, the next morning, he just laid down and closed his eyes for the last time.
He was smarter than we were. He knew it was his time. He knew if it wasn't this it would be something else, soon. He was ready and he was at peace. His front paws were crossed like he used to do. His long, long tail, with the happy white tip, was stretched out. He wouldn't have been happy ill and infirm. I just hope I can be like that when the time comes.
Nero was ready for whatever comes next. I like to think it is the Rainbow Bridge. That he is young again, with his 7 siblings, all of whom died earlier than he. That there is a place for them to run and play and wait to be joined by the humans whose lives they filled.
A wise friend told me Nero is still alive in my heart. He is.
When a pet dies, people ask if you will get another. No dog can ever replace Nero any more than a new baby can replace a child that dies. But if someday I see a dog and feel in my heart that Nero is telling me this is right, I will adopt it. I know he will guide me in what I should do.
Nero died this week. My life is richer for having been loved by a good dog.
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