You all think that Alexa thing or whatever it is on your countertop is only listening to your commands? Nope. It hears and observes EVERYTHING in your household. There's a reason Snowden put tape over the computer webcams even when he wasn't using them. Everybody is whining about lack of privacy but yet invites spy gadgets into their homes and even wear them on their person. These gadgets are way more insidious than voluntary social media where your ego sold you out for data collection. At least people are figuring out that braggy postings of their constant whereabouts and with whom is not a good idea. Well, this realization is that its too little too late. Your info is out there for anybody to hack and track. Genie is out of the bottle, folks.
"Smart Homes" are not a good idea, either. Don't let the glorified convenience of it suck you in.
Saturday, December 30, 2017
Friday, December 29, 2017
2018 Taxes
HeWhoShallNotBeNamed has put together a new system for taxation of us plebes. There is much angst about how it will impact California. Although I'm not a fan of HeWhoShallNotBeNamed, an interesting thought came to mind.
Putting a limit on the state property tax deduction to $10,000 may be a deterrent for housing prices that are spiraling out of control in California.
Putting a limit on the state property tax deduction to $10,000 may be a deterrent for housing prices that are spiraling out of control in California.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Merry Christmas?
The month of December is filled with food, parties, and festivities. It's been non-stop since pretty much since Thanksgiving. Having Mercury in retrograde the first part of the month did not help at all. The stress levels were through the roof, not so much with my family, but with work. I can't even begin to go into detail as you would not believe it. Let's just say that it's newsworthy.
This Christmas we decided to scale back on gift giving. Guess what. Nobody was sad nor disappointed. Everybody was relieved and could actually relax and just focus on being together rather than fighting hordes of people for yet more stuff we don't really need. We did not even wrap the gifts that we got - just left them in a bag or its original box. It's just one small contribution to not filling up landfills with paper. Granted, my Martha Stewart friend would have had a fit seeing my plain, brown boxes under the tree as hers are all meticulously wrapped, color coordinated and placed ever so carefully under the tree in matching paper and bows.
Sorry, Martha Stewart doesn't live here.
By the numbers of people here on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning they don't care that Martha Stewart doesn't live here, either. The guest of honor was a 94 year-old woman. She's a spunky thing. She arrived all dressed up complete with her hair done and make-up. Just think of the changes she has seen in Sonoma County in her 94 years. Yup, she was born and raised here. Just listening to her talk is a history lesson......and......she likes her gin. God Bless her.
This Christmas Morning people arrived earlier than usual, and stayed later than usual. I guess I take that as a compliment however exhausting it is. After the houseful finally emptied out I thought I would call my parents in Minnesota to wish them a Merry Christmas. I talk to my parents about once a week. When I called and my mother answered the phone I said, "Merry Christmas!! What are you all up to today?"
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end. I recognized that sound of silence from my mother. It was not good. She flatly blurted out, "Your father has emphazema (sp?) and is on oxygen and your Uncle Buzz has colon cancer."
Huh???? Come again????
It did not stop there. My mother went on that her best friend, who was like an aunt to me growing up, only has days to live.
Huh??? Come again???? Merry Christmas?????????????????????
At that point my father got on the phone along with my mother. I could hear the shortness of breath in his voice. Humor always works in awkward situations, right? He started to tell me of how my mother overcooked the Christmas ham. OK. That was my lead to start to play. Just *how* do you mess up baking a ham? It's nearly impossible. Let the fun-poking begin.
My father asked me how I cooked my hams. It depends on if it's smoked or cured. It depends on if it's bone-in spiral from Costco or whatever. Regardless, I NEVER attempt to cook a ham from its frozen state. It needs to THAW. What my father does not really know is that everything I ever learned about scrumptious cooking I learned from watching his mother. Well, my mother attempted to bake a ham from its frozen state and then wondered why it came out so poorly despite my father harping on her otherwise.
My mother has been cooking for my father for 60 years. One would think......................
I'm not going to totally rip on mom, here. She is really an excellent baker as was her mother. Everybody has their strengths. My mother can bake really awesome goodies. If I did not think she had some skills in the kitchen I would not feel right about poking fun at her about the stupid ham. Personally, I can't really bake anything. So there. Mom has one up on me.
Still, the elephant was in the room about dad being on oxygen and having emphazema. Exactly why my mother decided to let this news be known on Christmas Day is a mystery. There were plenty of opportunities to communicate this news on any day other than Christmas. However, it's not about me and how and when I receive the news. It's about dad.
So today, after a strange shopping trip to Corte Madera with my daughter, I called my sister from my car on speakerphone with my daughter. My sister and I both agreed that dad needs to get out of sub-zero weather for about 6-8 weeks during the winter. I'm an empty nester with three open bedrooms. I actually want to spend time with my parents despite my griping about whatever I thought they lacked raising me and how I'm a victim. I'm done and over with blaming. There comes a time to just love and forgive....no matter what.
This Christmas we decided to scale back on gift giving. Guess what. Nobody was sad nor disappointed. Everybody was relieved and could actually relax and just focus on being together rather than fighting hordes of people for yet more stuff we don't really need. We did not even wrap the gifts that we got - just left them in a bag or its original box. It's just one small contribution to not filling up landfills with paper. Granted, my Martha Stewart friend would have had a fit seeing my plain, brown boxes under the tree as hers are all meticulously wrapped, color coordinated and placed ever so carefully under the tree in matching paper and bows.
Sorry, Martha Stewart doesn't live here.
By the numbers of people here on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning they don't care that Martha Stewart doesn't live here, either. The guest of honor was a 94 year-old woman. She's a spunky thing. She arrived all dressed up complete with her hair done and make-up. Just think of the changes she has seen in Sonoma County in her 94 years. Yup, she was born and raised here. Just listening to her talk is a history lesson......and......she likes her gin. God Bless her.
This Christmas Morning people arrived earlier than usual, and stayed later than usual. I guess I take that as a compliment however exhausting it is. After the houseful finally emptied out I thought I would call my parents in Minnesota to wish them a Merry Christmas. I talk to my parents about once a week. When I called and my mother answered the phone I said, "Merry Christmas!! What are you all up to today?"
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end. I recognized that sound of silence from my mother. It was not good. She flatly blurted out, "Your father has emphazema (sp?) and is on oxygen and your Uncle Buzz has colon cancer."
Huh???? Come again????
It did not stop there. My mother went on that her best friend, who was like an aunt to me growing up, only has days to live.
Huh??? Come again???? Merry Christmas?????????????????????
At that point my father got on the phone along with my mother. I could hear the shortness of breath in his voice. Humor always works in awkward situations, right? He started to tell me of how my mother overcooked the Christmas ham. OK. That was my lead to start to play. Just *how* do you mess up baking a ham? It's nearly impossible. Let the fun-poking begin.
My father asked me how I cooked my hams. It depends on if it's smoked or cured. It depends on if it's bone-in spiral from Costco or whatever. Regardless, I NEVER attempt to cook a ham from its frozen state. It needs to THAW. What my father does not really know is that everything I ever learned about scrumptious cooking I learned from watching his mother. Well, my mother attempted to bake a ham from its frozen state and then wondered why it came out so poorly despite my father harping on her otherwise.
My mother has been cooking for my father for 60 years. One would think......................
I'm not going to totally rip on mom, here. She is really an excellent baker as was her mother. Everybody has their strengths. My mother can bake really awesome goodies. If I did not think she had some skills in the kitchen I would not feel right about poking fun at her about the stupid ham. Personally, I can't really bake anything. So there. Mom has one up on me.
Still, the elephant was in the room about dad being on oxygen and having emphazema. Exactly why my mother decided to let this news be known on Christmas Day is a mystery. There were plenty of opportunities to communicate this news on any day other than Christmas. However, it's not about me and how and when I receive the news. It's about dad.
So today, after a strange shopping trip to Corte Madera with my daughter, I called my sister from my car on speakerphone with my daughter. My sister and I both agreed that dad needs to get out of sub-zero weather for about 6-8 weeks during the winter. I'm an empty nester with three open bedrooms. I actually want to spend time with my parents despite my griping about whatever I thought they lacked raising me and how I'm a victim. I'm done and over with blaming. There comes a time to just love and forgive....no matter what.
Friday, December 22, 2017
You Are What You Despise
All the stories with interesting plots really revolve around the main character eventually becoming what he or she despises. Hmmmmmm....think about that. What you despise is really what you are.
Take your own personal inventory of yourself to identify what that is.
I can only speak for myself, but I'm certainly in trouble;)
Take your own personal inventory of yourself to identify what that is.
I can only speak for myself, but I'm certainly in trouble;)
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Click Bait
In our ever distracted ADD culture with more and more demanding techno gadgets beeping, buzzing, blinking, etc., that our URGENT attention is required IMMEDIATELY or the world will spin off its axis, I'm coming to the conclusion that if everything is URGENT and ACT NOW and YOUR IMMEDIATE ACTION NEEDED, nothing is urgent nor does it require my immediate attention. It's all just useless noise. We have the technology to deal with 10,000 things at once with a superficial gloss over, but nothing of that multitude can be dealt with in depth.
That's what we're lacking these days, folks. Depth. It's all just sensational noise out there with no contemplative reflection to really process and intellectually analyze what we're being fed because of the constant bombardment of the next sensational topic. Everybody is attempting to outdo each other for just three seconds of your attention.
You all buy it. Hence, click bait.
We all have ADD. We all can only digest superficial bits of information and if it's broken down into bite size thought nuggets. This is where 'click bait' comes in.
You can immediately recognize 'click bait.' It usually has a captivating headline like, "How to Know if People Really Like You or Not." Headlines like that totally play into our own insecurities. See, they already have you. You click on it. Then it will be, "10 Signs the Relationship is Over."
Everything click bait has a number on it. For example, click bait always has a numbered bullet list like 10 signs of (fill in blank whatever), or something like "11 colors that are wrong to wear this season," or " 5 best schools in the country," or " 13 best weight loss recipes, etc."
What happens next is an ADD nightmare. You are immediately bombarded with pop-up ads, broken up articles of the subject matter you thought you were going to read about and suddenly you're on a Viagra webpage, combined with pleas to enter your email address to win _______, and also advertisement recommendations for restaurants in your neighborhood you *know* are crappy. But there it is. The CLIP NOW totally useless restaurant online coupon for a 2 for 1 is valid only on June 31st. ...and just exactly WHAT caught our interest and decided to click on to begin with??? I'm totally confused. I forgot by this point and don't care.
I can't handle it, people. It's just too damn noisy out there with constant solicitations and pleas for my attention and IMMEDIATE ACTION.
If you want to my attention me, leave me alone.
That's what we're lacking these days, folks. Depth. It's all just sensational noise out there with no contemplative reflection to really process and intellectually analyze what we're being fed because of the constant bombardment of the next sensational topic. Everybody is attempting to outdo each other for just three seconds of your attention.
You all buy it. Hence, click bait.
We all have ADD. We all can only digest superficial bits of information and if it's broken down into bite size thought nuggets. This is where 'click bait' comes in.
You can immediately recognize 'click bait.' It usually has a captivating headline like, "How to Know if People Really Like You or Not." Headlines like that totally play into our own insecurities. See, they already have you. You click on it. Then it will be, "10 Signs the Relationship is Over."
Everything click bait has a number on it. For example, click bait always has a numbered bullet list like 10 signs of (fill in blank whatever), or something like "11 colors that are wrong to wear this season," or " 5 best schools in the country," or " 13 best weight loss recipes, etc."
What happens next is an ADD nightmare. You are immediately bombarded with pop-up ads, broken up articles of the subject matter you thought you were going to read about and suddenly you're on a Viagra webpage, combined with pleas to enter your email address to win _______, and also advertisement recommendations for restaurants in your neighborhood you *know* are crappy. But there it is. The CLIP NOW totally useless restaurant online coupon for a 2 for 1 is valid only on June 31st. ...and just exactly WHAT caught our interest and decided to click on to begin with??? I'm totally confused. I forgot by this point and don't care.
I can't handle it, people. It's just too damn noisy out there with constant solicitations and pleas for my attention and IMMEDIATE ACTION.
If you want to my attention me, leave me alone.
Sunday, December 10, 2017
The Date Rape Song
OK, every human who has a penis has now been accused of sexual misconduct. Let's just get that out in the open - no, not YOU Peter Flasher - keep that thing zipped up where it belongs. All of these accusations flying around only desensitize the severity of the issue. If sexual advances are used to display dominance or control or other dehumanizing, humiliating, objectifying scenarios IT'S WRONG. If they are used because there is a genuine interest in the other person and that feeling is reciprocated then I don't know what to say about that.
Are we going to "outlaw" sexual urges from men? Good luck with that. Unless we castrate 1/2 the population we are going to have this issue keep popping up (no pun intended). Why don't we all go to Hard On School? In 4th grade it's all about telling boys what happens when girls grow up, why not put the two classes together and teach about hard-on and appropriate behavior in dealing with it? I know, we can call the class 'Teaching to Testosterone'.
1. Jerking off in public is a no-no;
2. Exposing yourself via flashing or sending pics of your junk is *not* a turn on to the recipient. Do your homework, guys, women are not visually stimulated;
3. Ass grabbing just pisses us off and instantly makes us think your an ass. The irony should not be lost on you;
4. Front loaded hugs and placing your hand on the small of our backs is entering the danger zone. You may get slapped;
5. Guys need to teach other guys boundaries and limits. We are not your prey that you get to hunt and hang our pelt on the wall. We are humans with feelings. Quality, not quantity. If you want uncommitted sex, hire a prostitute. At least the deal is honest. The guy wants sex and the prostitute wants money. Oh, you don't want to spend money nor effort on that and want to use some poor girl you'll forget about tomorrow? I guess that deserves you to lose your dick. Don't play with our hearts. Wishing Limpville for you, buddy, that no little blue pill can cure.
With all of this over-sensitivity to sexual harassment and misconduct, I'm surprised the below song has not been banned from the airwaves. It was pointed out by my son some years ago that they dubbed this popular Christmas song the "Date Rape Song." Listen closely. It's condoning date rape. Put the following link to bring up a youtube video of the original version. I'm trying to upload "Baby It's Cold Outside" but having trouble embedding (no pun intended). We call that the Date Rape Song. So, if you can't get this up (no pun intended) just think DATE RAPE every time you hear Baby It's Cold Outside and wonder where the outcry by angry feminists are.
Are we going to "outlaw" sexual urges from men? Good luck with that. Unless we castrate 1/2 the population we are going to have this issue keep popping up (no pun intended). Why don't we all go to Hard On School? In 4th grade it's all about telling boys what happens when girls grow up, why not put the two classes together and teach about hard-on and appropriate behavior in dealing with it? I know, we can call the class 'Teaching to Testosterone'.
1. Jerking off in public is a no-no;
2. Exposing yourself via flashing or sending pics of your junk is *not* a turn on to the recipient. Do your homework, guys, women are not visually stimulated;
3. Ass grabbing just pisses us off and instantly makes us think your an ass. The irony should not be lost on you;
4. Front loaded hugs and placing your hand on the small of our backs is entering the danger zone. You may get slapped;
5. Guys need to teach other guys boundaries and limits. We are not your prey that you get to hunt and hang our pelt on the wall. We are humans with feelings. Quality, not quantity. If you want uncommitted sex, hire a prostitute. At least the deal is honest. The guy wants sex and the prostitute wants money. Oh, you don't want to spend money nor effort on that and want to use some poor girl you'll forget about tomorrow? I guess that deserves you to lose your dick. Don't play with our hearts. Wishing Limpville for you, buddy, that no little blue pill can cure.
With all of this over-sensitivity to sexual harassment and misconduct, I'm surprised the below song has not been banned from the airwaves. It was pointed out by my son some years ago that they dubbed this popular Christmas song the "Date Rape Song." Listen closely. It's condoning date rape. Put the following link to bring up a youtube video of the original version. I'm trying to upload "Baby It's Cold Outside" but having trouble embedding (no pun intended). We call that the Date Rape Song. So, if you can't get this up (no pun intended) just think DATE RAPE every time you hear Baby It's Cold Outside and wonder where the outcry by angry feminists are.
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