And, As Always, Things That Pop Up Along The Way...
Summer is ending, football season is coming, I’m writing steadily again after a bit of a setback (more on that later) and my work table is, for me, fairly well organized…all good things!
- I saw this quote the other day. It appealed to me. It’s from a fellow out in Utah who, for a very long time, has been herding close to 2,000 sheep. So here it is for you. It’s sentiment is a good one although his vantage point is from way out in the craggy woods and high pastures. I’m not sure I could be constantly ‘adherent’; afraid there is too much ‘City Mouse’ in me.
“Money isn’t everything. Living is everything. All you leave behind is your story and mine is a good one for my kids and grandkids.”
I’ll leave you with it to work with it.
- I do get amused from time to time watching how other people react to the banalities of life. I call it ‘The Restatement of The Obvious’…there is a need in some people to describe what is readily and clearly in front of them and often they do so is a tone of hushed and puzzled amazement.
I went to my UPS store the other day to get my mail after having been gone for about a week.
Two people, a man and a woman, not together, were waiting outside and though it was a few minutes after the listed 8 a.m. open time, the place was dark and the gate was down. They were milling about lethargically with packages to send. As my box is outside of the gate and as I know the after-hours code, I punched in the magic numbers, opened the door and went in with them trailing me tentatively.
As I unlocked my box, one said, “It looks like they’re not open yet.”
The other joined in with, “You know, I don’t think they’re open yet.”
(No, I’m not making this up and we have all seen and heard this sort of thing before-and regrettably, have participated in same too.)
I grasped my mail and began to sort it, wheat from chaff, on the island provided in the center of the stall, throw away, keep, think about, read, etc.
And I waited and was not disappointed.
The fellow looked at me and asked, “Do you know when they’ll be open? The sign says they should be by now.”
The lady nodded and with authority added to the chorus, “You know it’s after 8. They ought to be open.”
I simply shrugged a ‘Damned if I know’ look….and left them still inside to noodle out their problem.
I hoped it would be a while longer before the gate came up.
Their further dialogue must have been riveting…
- I had a moment of governmentally induced guilt the other day. It was a very private one but once I realized what I had not done, I made a note to rectify this failing as quickly as I could and I am on hold awaiting assistance even now as I type away at this blog.
I was putting some boxes of books in the back of my car when I came eyeball to my license plate and spotted that the month and year on the tag read, “Nov. ‘20”
(And I know my auto liability insurance is current…)
Uh-oh. Yikes. What to do? How did I miss that? Even more intriguing is that I got a speeding ticket up in Statesville, North Carolina before I went out to Montana earlier this summer and how is it that the Highway Patrol Trooper said not a word about it. Curious.
At any rate, the sensation I had upon realizing that I was a traffic scofflaw was a bit unsettling. I even recall furtively looking around to see if I’d been detected. Guilty as Sin!
And now I on hold with the South Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles and for many, many minutes at that, while a peach luscious lady’s voice apologizes repeatedly to me for the delay, explaining that due to high call volume and staffing shortages, they cannot get to me as quickly as they would like.
I am fine though. I am actively trying to fix my deficiency and have a healthy charge in my cell phone. I can and will wait. I feel better now.
- Here is a visual and visceral shocker from last week. I walked into a liquor store in Banner Elk, North Carolina. As we all know, South Carolina ranks at or near the bottom of the barrel in so many categories but we are oceans ahead of the Old North State when it comes to holding our liquor. Because our palmetto stores’ shelves are holding full while the Tar Heel inventory is pitiably sparse.
It is amazing. Now folks, we are talking about the 9th largest state in the Union and there is no vodka or tequila to be had, save for the flavored varieties. Empty shelves everywhere one looked. Why is this happening? I asked the clerk at the counter.
He told me that as long as the state of North Carolina runs its ABC (Alcohol Beverage Control) stores as an arm of its governmental activities, there will always be huge inefficiencies, bottle necks, distribution and allocation problems and that COVID has really amplified the problem. When COVID really kicked in, there was a run on the stores up there and spot shortages grew and grew larger and have now gotten to the point when demand in many spots has simply overwhelmed supply. The N.C. A.B.C. crowd has been playing from way behind now for a good while and it has really caught up with them. He explained that with private ownership of hootch sales in South Carolina, the blockage stopper of fat and lazy government as an insufferable middle man is eliminated.
To me, just another example of government getting in the way of what ought to be a private enterprise.
- While I was up in the mountains, I was working diligently away at my laptop on the third book in my Eddie Terrell Trilogy. One beautiful morning, all of a sudden my laptop went sideways, gagged, clicked, made a funny whirring sound and died. Just as the machine breathed its last, a couple of hundred words I had just written vanished, snatched from the screen before my horrified eyes.
That moment was a gut shot to the pit of my stomach. I was beside myself with worry. Had my 50+thousand words in my manuscript been consigned to an invisible place out in deep cyber space? Was I condemned to have to start over?
Consciously I damped down my growing anxiety and panic and texted our marvelous Information Technology guru down in Atlanta. He was back to me quickly and assured me that in all probability, it was a mechanical problem and not one involving content. He was confident he could retrieve what I thought was lost. He was not sure if the laptop itself could be satisfactorily repaired. I overnighted the machine to him and held my breath, figuratively of course. He called me the next day and told me that the 10 year old, sturdy and solid MacBook Pro had served its last days and suggested I just get another and download everything off the old one to the new one. (Did you know that in the hinge between the keyboard and the screen are a gazillion tiny cables and wires that make the whole deal go? Such had never occurred to me.)
I concurred with his advice. He ordered a new one. In big city places like Atlanta, if you order by 10:30 in the morning, they deliver the new goods by 5 p.m. the same day. The big download went ahead, slowly because I had never really cleaned the old one out but it was successful and then he overnighted the new one back to me. He kept the old one and we then got on the phone and he walked me through the retrieval of what I thought had been lost plus showed me lots of new good trick and bells and whistles to make my mind and my content much more secure.
So, yet another bullet dodged.
And it was interesting. Now that I have gotten used to writing at least 5 days out of 7, it was discomfiting and bothersome to not have that opportunity to work on my book. I felt I was wasting time, not being productive and I was at first, pretty frustrated. Plus I had been on a good, hot roll and was very much liking what I was turning out and began to worry that I had lost that flame.
I did lose about a week but I’m back in the saddle now and between all my scribbled notes and all the mush between my ears, we’re again moving forward nicely. And I am grateful!
-Which brings me to my last comment for this small musing.
When the new laptop arrived and I unwrapped and unboxed it-)Note to Apple CEO Tim Cook: Your heavy-handed packaging is about as environmentally friendly as plastic bottles in the sea-way too much of everything.)-along with cords and brochures came two good sized Apple stickers which the good marketers at Apple hope I will affix to my car windows or some such, thus signifying to the world that I am smart and savvy and have an Apple product.
This is what I call The Yeti Phenomenon.
And I am disdainful of it.
Now, why do all these folks put a Yeti sticker on their cars and trucks, especially their trucks? To let the world know what? That they have a ‘Yeti’? Why? What is the rationale here? Who could possibly give a damn? Save, of course, for the person putting the sticker on their vehicle? What’s the message? I own a Yeti and therefore, I am smart and special and exceptional? And I have the money to blow (or my chump parents do) on a cooler? That’s just downright sad. That’s pitiful. Who is it supposed to impress because that’s exactly what the signal is. It’s a ‘Look At Me’ moment.
And it is lame.
Now, if I put the Apple stickers on my car, what is my signal? Same as above. Consumer elitism. It’s stupid. End of story. So, please, stop it, just stop it!
(I just threw the Apple stickers in the trash too.)
Oh, I got my booster last week. Please people, get your shots and lets finish this nasty bastard off. The numbers don’t lie. Please be smart about this. I want you all around to buy my books!
Peace Out Dudes!
All the best to all of you,
Vernon