The joys of old school, or how I detest technology

“(I’m not online.)
I don’t have a fax.
I don’t go in for any of that stuff.
The typewriter is as far as I went.”

Walter Kaylin


(an old school Roman “truck” or Ape Piaggio–three wheeled truck, Campo di Fiori/ Rome Italy /Julie Cook 2018)

Yes, you have read correctly… I hate technology.
I think I’ve mentioned that little fact before.

“But aren’t you actually using technology as we speak—or is that ‘as we read’???”
you perceptively ask.

“And so if you hate it so much, then why are you using it?” as you counter your own observation?

I’m with Walter Kaylin in his quote from up above…oh for that simple typewriter.

My poor technologically inept husband needed a new computer, a new laptop.
So that is what I surprised him with for Christmas.

But I knew how it would all play out…and I was right on the money.

The new computer has two new and very different USB ports from that of his old computer.

A conundrum.

He needed a new i-tunes account, separate from me, finally…as all of our stuff has been
basically merged together as if one account–a huge messy mishmash.

A conundrum that we’ve managed to live with for quite some time because due to
the business, it was kind of okay.

Yet when he closed the business, he lost his old e-mail.

A huge conundrum.

And since no business-related emails can be accessed, despite hours spent on the phone with AT&T…
did I mention how he loathes AT&T or how I now concur??—we’ve had a conundrum.

Not only can’t he get into his old email account (thank you AT&T) he can’t even pull up his
deer trail cam images–and that is more of a crisis than a conundrum…

So today would be the day.
I psyched myself up for what I knew to lay ahead.

I’d sit down after I had taken down all of the outdoor Christmas in hopes of beating these
6 inches of rain they keep warning us about…all in order to create a new I-tunes account,
separate our phones and computers, as well as set up a new g-mail, a new I-tunes,
and finally a new computer.

Yet oddly in the process, I managed to lock myself out of my own computer.

WHAT???

I typed, I typed some more, I pondered, I pulled out my phone, I re-set everything I
could think to re-set but sadly it was to no avail.

I considered throwing my laptop over the back deck.
Why not?
It was locked up tighter than Dick’s hatband.

Where are those savvy hackers when you really need one???
Hiding out in some dark room in Siberia I suspect.

I groused, I cursed, I wailed…my husband said “here, take mine”…
“it’s not that simple” I snapped.

For you see I knew this would happen.
It always happens.
Despite my diligence, despite my best-laid plans, I knew what should have been a 1 2 3 sort
of flow would become an entire day’s nightmare.

My son complains that at his work, they keep hiring people my age who don’t really
“get” technology and so he wastes most of his day teaching “old” folks how to do the job
they were hired to do because it was thought they knew how to do it.

I took offense to that until today…I now understand.

I called Apple.

I spoke with one of their “geniuses” who did not speak fluent English.

I take offense to that notion of genius—

How arrogant of Apple to call their techi gurus geniuses…
…as if they are all that and a bag of chips and I am… but a mere moron.

With no help from Apple, I spent 5, count them, 5 hours figuring all of this out…
the sun rose and the sun set…all while I pecked and panicked.

Finally, blessedly, joyously, I managed to get myself unlocked and my husband free and good to go.
Plus I managed to migrate my old computer info to my own new little laptop.
(You need to be proud Phyllis because I am finally finding my way in the dark without you,
Sue or OP!
FYI, that’s a school thing…sorry)

I regrettably feel this same way everytime it’s time for me to get new glasses.

I go for the vision test, they think they have it all figured out, I get the new glasses
and bam, I can’t see a thing.
It takes visit after visit, retesting, refitting until they finally get my eyes and glasses
‘synced.’

And to think, I’m a year over going in for my eye appointment, imagine that…hummmm.

Each year I ponder going “dark” for Lent…meaning cutting myself off from all technology.
If the Queen can cut out all chocolates from her Royal world during the Lenten season,
surely I could go technology free…

Today was just one more step closer to a vote for a true technology blackout!

They don’t have pay phones anymore, do they???

So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us,
either by our spoken word or by our letter.

2 Thessalonians 2:15

I’m not looking for trouble, honest…

“In her voyage across the ocean of this world,
the Church is like a great ship being pounded by the waves of life’s
different stresses.
Our duty is not to abandon ship but to keep her on her course.”

St. Boniface


(I wonder if any of these birds know anything about the missing owl decoy’s head? / Julie Cook / 2018)

I think I’ve gotten to the age where I really don’t go looking for trouble…rather,
trouble merely seems to come looking for me.

Now that’s not to say that I’d back down or run from trouble…
I’ve learned that it’s often best to simply brace oneself while stepping into the wind…
the wind of trouble that is.
Marching forward and dealing with it head on…that is, when it comes marching my way.

I say all this because I had four things yesterday that I found troubling all within about
the span of a blink of the eye—
I didn’t find them, they found me.

Like I say, I don’t go perusing for these sorts of things and I do my darndest to keep such
off my radar…but…

Usually, every time when I go in to fetch my email, a “news” feed page comes up first…
AT&T’s home page.
It runs a scrolling snippet of the day’s headlines…

Now the idea of what I’ve always thought of as a headline versus what our “society”
now considers a headline, separated and parted ways eons ago.

So before I could even click the ‘take me to my mail page’ icon,
I saw that John Kerry was making fun of President Trump’s girth,
Tom Brady stopped an interview over a reporter’s snide remark regarding his daughter,
that the Grammy’s were a huge “I am woman hear me roar” moment and that—
with that last one actually being a twofer—
it was a night of who’s who in Grammyville loving one another while hating the rest of
everyone else…as the women untied and wanted to bash the heads of those who
countered their endearing and de-masculating moment of unification…

Then in my email, I read that our friend the Wee Flea reviewed a movie that will probably be up
for best picture–a typical movie plot over racism in small town USA, a movie that he actually
hated—and left him sad and hopeless that we as a society have sunk to calling such a film
“entertainment” and actually a bravo moment…

Then before I could run and hide, a movie ad pops up for a totally different movie that I
actually looked into regarding the plot line as it too was claiming to be a best picture.
It’s that movie about the Shape of Water business and having read the storyline–
about a mute woman falling in love and actually having sex on screen with a mutant sea creature,
while they then swim off happily together into the sunset, left me shaking my head…

As in shaking to see if something was lose inside my brain cause I just don’t get any of this.

A, I’ve never heard of either movie until first, I saw the Wee Flea’s post and then secondly
when the pop-up ad for the other movie actually popped up…and I confess,
I fell for its ad and looked further. So they accomplished their desire of fishing for curiosity.
But that was enough because I was resolutely reminded once again as to why I really don’t
ever go to see a movie.

They are either ridiculous, full of hidden agendas, laced with unnecessary awful violence and sex
or just flat out stupid.

Then we have the notion of news…that which makes news news…
and whatever that actually is—and that I don’t care for any of it.

I miss Huntly and Brinkley…I’ve written about them before…and I’m still missing them.

I could care less about award shows such as the Grammy’s, the Oscars, the Tony’s,
the you name its.
Why do I want to see an elitist crowd who is so far out of touch with reality, patting one another
on the back, while they use their public platform to tell the little people why it
is they are so little and why they the elitists, are so indeed so elite…

Sigh…

Today’s quote is by St Boniface—an English Benedictine monk (675-754 AD) who was tasked with
spreading the Gospel into the pagan Germanic tribes while also working to bring reform
to what Christian Churches had previously been established in the land of the barbarian Franks.

Neither task was easy and keeping one’s life was not a guarantee.
As Boniface was eventually massacred as he was preparing to baptize a group of converts.

He was committed to his faith in Jesus Christ.
He knew the significance of leading others to Christ and to sharing the Gospel with those
who had not yet heard or seen or whose hearts had once known but were now hardened.

Boniface bore out the Christian rule: To follow Christ is to follow the way of the cross.
For Boniface, it was not only physical suffering or death, but the painful,
thankless, bewildering task of Church reform.
Missionary glory is often thought of in terms of bringing new persons to Christ.
It seems—but is not—less glorious to heal the household of the faith.

(Franciscan Media)

I imagine that today’s current society is not much different than that of the time of Boniface
in that he was tasked with healing an ailing household of faith during a time of grave
personal peril. The Germanic Chruch, what there was of it, had fallen back into Paganism
along with having fallen into corruption.
Much like the day of St Francis when he was told by Christ on the Cross to “rebuild my house”
And again, not much unlike today.

Seems that not only are Believers meant to share, live and spread the Gospel,
they are also tasked with keeping house…
and when that house falls into ill repair, they are tasked with the repair and
even the rebuilding.

So I actually take heart when I read and see most vividly the wantonness of our day…
everything from the anger, the hatred, the belligerent chatter of the tit for tat and the
global persecution of the faithful…
because from all of this, be it the current “news” feeds or the latest ailments within the Chruch,
all of which is certainly enough to make me feel almost hopeless, and yet I take heart
in the words of St Boniface–
words which resonate with both my heart and soul.

We must not abandon the ship…
but rather we must work diligently to make certain
that we keep her on course…as well as make any needed repairs…

Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called,
and you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.

1 Timothy 6:12

gee, haw…

“If the heart wanders or is distracted, bring it back to the point quite gently and replace it tenderly in its Master’s presence.
And even if you did nothing during the whole of your hour but bring your
heart back and place it again in Our Lord’s presence, though it went away
every time you brought it back, your hour would be very well employed.”

St. Francis de Sales


(a pair of Belgium working horses on Mackinac Island / Julie Cook / 2017)

My husband and I hopped in the car the other evening, as we were getting ready to
head over to Atlanta to see our son and daughter-n-law…
and I don’t know what brought it up, but we got off on a small technology tangent.

Most likely what got us started was my wanting to turn on the seat warmers.
Temps had not reached above the freezing point all day, and now the sun was quickly
setting sending temperatures plummeting.
Needless to say, I’ve been mostly cold for the last two months.

My husband said, for no one in particular, “technology left me years ago…
it left me back with gee and haw…”

“GEE, HAW???!!!!” I practically shout before bursting out into full laughter.

For those of you unfamiliar with such words, Gee and Haw are the two words used with
working animals such as mules, draft horses, and even sled dogs.
Gee means for the mule, horse or dog to turn right
Shout ‘Haw,’ and the animal turns left.

My husband can remember as a little boy visiting his grandparents up in north
Georgia with his grandfather using mules to plow the fields.
He’d shout “Gee” then “Haw,” and those mules knew exactly which way to turn.
That was probably in the early 1950’s as rural Georgia was just that, still very rural.

We had actually heard the same terms used recently, this past summer when visiting
Mackinac Island as there are no vehicles on the island—only draft horses doing
everything from acting as the taxis to delivering UPS.
Gee.
Haw

Low tech.
And I must say, I for one, found it somewhat comforting.
It was actually really refreshing.

I know it, being technology, isn’t going anywhere anytime soon but instead will only be advancing…
And sadly so…
for technology has, if it hasn’t already, gotten entirely out of hand as well as a disaster
just waiting to happen…

This insatiable need of ours to see, to know, to hear, to tell everything instantaneously is a very dangerous false need.

It has created a very dangerous sense of profound falsehoods that most of us don’t even
realize.
For we are a people who are greatly dependent upon our technology—for even life
and death issues…

But let’s look at a couple non-life-threatening examples of when technology goes
awry…or perhaps just more of an irksome trouble.

During the busy Christmas shopping mayhem season, my husband’s internet randomly went out at his store. His is a busy retail
business, so when there’s a technology issue and his register goes out, or his credit card machine goes out, he loses money as people will walk out the door.

We spent hours on the phone with AT&T trying to find a person who was actually
“stateside” as we continued narrowing help down to Georgia, then down to our individual town.
That took hours of waiting and frustration. All the while the store is full of people
who want to be waited on and checked out.
We were told it would be days before they could get someone out to check out our problem.
Days was not an option.

In the meantime, we had to pull out the old-timey credit card swiper….remember
those low tech little machines?

A customer would lay their card down on top of a triple carbon copy slip
while the clerk swiped the little lever over the card and carbon paper. The
customer’s card info would be swiped and imprinted onto the carbon ticket.
The customer would then sign the swiped carbon slip as the clerk would then pull off
the customer copy while keeping the store copy…
then off went the happy customer with their purchase.

The old-timey swiping machine worked perfectly fine as we waited for the AT&T technician
to eventually make the trip to the store.
Turns out the internet was out for unknown reasons randomly in the shopping center…
the next time it went out, a week later, the technician sent us out get a new cable…

sigh…

Last evening we went to neighboring town for supper at a Craker Barrel.
I often crave Cracker Barrel’s simple homey fare offering of
good ol’ southern prepared food.
Chicken and dumplings, fried okra, spicy collard greens, southern style green beans…
or even their offering of breakfast for supper.
Plus they had a roaring fire going and we were fortunate to snag
a table by the fire.

When we’d finished our meal we took the bill out to the register to pay.
The line snaked all the way back into the dining area.
We figured they were low of help at the registers…
but that was not the issue.
Their card machines weren’t working probably and weren’t reading folks
debit or credit cards correctly.

Finally, as we made our way to a cashier, we told the manager we were going
to pay with something very novel…real money.

The manager was grateful and said he wished he had one of the old-timey
credit card swiper machines but since he was the oldest one on staff, he was the only
one who even knew what such a machine was…

Low tech.

Those are just a couple examples of small technological issues
of when things don’t work or go wrong.

Now let’s consider a bit larger trouble.

Saturday, a statewide alert went out in Hawaii, alerting the public that a ballistic missile was on its way to the Islands.
It was one of those Amber style alerts that went out on everyone’s phones.
It was not a drill and everyone needed to seek immediate shelter.
For those in Hawaii, it was the end of life as they had known it.

With North Korea’s 24/7 threats, threatening to send a nuclear warhead
in the direction of Japan, South Korea, Hawaii, or Alaska…well its all had everyone
a tad bit nervous…so Saturday, it seemed that the unthinkable was actually happening.

However…

The issued warning alert was in actuality incorrect.
It had been issued by mistake.
There was no missile, no need to duck and cover.
No need for immediate Last Rites.

I wonder how busy the ER’s were following the correction with those feigning a
possible heart attack?

So it should come as no surprise that we’ve gotten really good these days at lamenting,
“technology, it’s great when it works…not so much when it doesn’t…”

And yet I rather miss our low tech dealings during these waning days of ours…

Gee
Haw

Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation.
Psalm 146:3

Troubles

Nobody knows the trouble that I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows the trouble that I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah
Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen
Sam Cooke

RSCN4928
(Yellow finch / Julie Cook / 2017)

So the new phone cable that AT&T had to run after lightning fried our phones
and internet a week ago, has sat these many days waiting to be buried.  
When things which are suppose to be buried are not buried .. that is when they should be…
bad things can happen.

The crew came out Thursday.

The backhoe dug a wide deep hole by our mailbox… but then the crew threw up
the orange safety netting and, well, departed.

Saturday morning our neighbor had some guys cutting her yard.  
For whatever reason, one of the guys thought it wise to cut the long black cable
running off the phone pole near her driveway and proceeded to bundle up the
myriad of feet of black cable and dump it all over on the other side of her fence–
as if it was some sort of annoyance to cutting grass– maybe the large gaping hole
and orange safety netting wasn’t obvious enough as to important work taking place.

Again we have no phone nor internet.

I spent two hours on my cell phone with the nice AT&T gal, this time in
Jamaica rather then India–
her name was Mango.

Mango transferred me to a gal from Nova Scotia–
I’ve always liked Nova Scotia.

Do you know what it’s like to explain to people all over the world why you don’t
have phone or internet service and then hope they can magically send a crew out
of nowhere, on a holiday weekend, to fix your little rural Georgia trouble…

My new technitian is to be here in the morning.

Then maybe I wont have to peck on my phone.

Pecking and hoping a post is magically coming together, since I can’t readily see any of
this on my phone as I can on my laptop, is well,
what’s that expression about spitting in the wind?…
something like that.

I’ll push publish and maybe the result will be a successful

Here’s to trouble, gals named Mango, the magic of phones and the internet and
yard men who are or are not considerate of black cable and orange safety netting.

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace.
In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Lightning, thunder and tornados–Oh My!

Well I told you the weather was to be bad…and true to form, it was…
Lightning hit the yard early, knocking out the phones and the Internet.
I called AT&T on my cellphone—
speaking with two different reps in India who were named Daniel and Anna…

When your reps are not in the US, because you sub out your services, you give the reps American names to help the feelings of the Americnas who call as it helps to offset the fact that the Americans have a difficult time understanding the heavily accented broken English.

Daniel was a bit dry.
He asked for the details of the problem.
I explained that lightning had fried my phones and Internet.
“You need to unplug your modem for 10 seconds”
“I did that already”
“Well I must run some tests”

This little plug, unplug, test went on for an hour until the call was dropped.
When I called back I got Anna in India.
Anna was more pleasant.

Anna tried one little trouble shooting test and then explained she’d have a tech come out late afternoon.

The Tech came out around 4PM
The sirens were blaring.
The sky was ominous…
Yet the Tech worked in, out and around the house until 7.
He was unable to fix things…
so a new Tech will come tomorrow…

It’s is now 10:30 PM and it is still storming.
I think they’re saying 8 inches of rain fell
That’s why the yard looks like a river.
And now they’re reporting there was an earthquake.

On that note— I’m jumping under the covers as I’m now
waiting for the frogs and locust to fall from the sky—
Plus posting from a phone is none too easy…..

Until I can get back to my computer…
Stay dry, safe and watch for the falling frogs…

Technology, Bah Humbug!!

“Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.”
― Pablo Picasso

“The production of too many useful things results in too many useless people.”
― Karl Marx

DSCN3429

Oh dear Lord, what is happening to me when I find myself thinking a quote by Karl Marx makes sense?!
Or even one from Pablo Picasso?
I know what you’re thinking. You figured all art teachers would like Picasso.
Well I’m not a fan of the bigger than life ego which Picasso could lay claim to. Nor am I a huge fan of cubism but I’d be digressing if I went off on that tangent.

How many times today have I bemoaned that “I hate technology”?
Was it the time I hung up my cell phone and put it away while it inadvertently “face timed” my son for about the 5th time?
Who by the way thinks face time is the greatest thing.
Who thinks that?!
It’s bad enough that I try looking presentable when I’m out in public, this whole face time business does not cast one in the best of light. You should have seen my hair on that screen!!

Or was it when I made the trip to Staples to find a new set of cordless phones for the house?
I really didn’t think the batch we had was all that old but for some reason there has been some crazy message on the phone claiming we had a “New Voice Message” complete with a blinking amber light that won’t go away.

I have an answering machine.
Why in the heck would my phone keep telling me that there’s some sort of new voice mail out there somewhere?
I tried pushing the buttons.
It promoted me to enter the access code.
Access code?!
What access code?
I push more buttons.
Some sort of busy sound comes up but the light is still blinking and the message is still listed.

I find the manual.
“Hold down the # button”
Okay, holding it down.
“Beep”
Oh thank God—no blinking light, no message.
The phone rings.
After hanging up, the message mysteriously appears again plus the phone is blinking again.
WHAT?!

My husband also notices the blinking light.
You know it’s big if a husband notices something blinking.
He tells me we must need new phones because a yellow light keeps blinking.
Really? I ask rather incredulously, “ya think?!”
But then he tells me, “no, don’t get new phones, I think the blinking light keeps the cat off the bed at night”
“What?!”
“Yeah, I think when she comes in the bedroom at night to jump on the bed, which always wakes me up, the light blinking by the bed, scares her off. . .”
I just shake my head at him as I walk out of the room.

So off I go to Staples in order to buy a new set of cordless phones.
And that’s another issue.
So many people today no longer have “land lines”
Land lines.
What is up with that?
Yes I have a cell phone, but if you want to have a decent conversation with someone that does not break up, cut off or sound as if you’re in a can. . .then a “real” phone is the only solution.
Hence my desire to keep a “real” phone in the house.
And I’m sorry but there’s just something odd about telling a person via this texting business that WYWH
I think saying “wish you were here” sounds so much nicer coming from a voice rather than a bunch of letters popping up on a screen don’t you?
How personal, how touching, how emotional can a letter be versers the tenderness of a voice?!
But then I would need to digress onto the tangent about this generation’s lack of the ability to communicate face to face—God forbid!
I mean really!

As I stand alone on the phone aisle at Staples, perusing the batch of cordless phones available, I pick out a Panasonic set— thinking the existing batch at home, which blink, must be a different brand. Sadly once home I see I’ve bought the same brand.
Hummm.
Surely these won’t blink.
Do you know how irritating it is to roll over in the middle of the night only to wake to a strobe light going off in the dark?. . .blink, blink, blink.
I am the type of person who prefers darkness when it comes to sleeping, not blinking lights.

Finally, once home, I unpack the box with all the new little cordless phones. I open the backs, putting in the batteries. I next go unplug all the current blinking phones–yes all 4 cordless phones blink.
I plug up all the new phones.
I proceed to conduct the initial test.
I call the house from my cell phone.
Nothing.
What?!
I pick up the new phone. Despite not being fully charged it claims that it’s working.
Hummm.
I look at the box.
“Make certain you hear a click when plugging in the phone line cord into both the phone as well as the phone jack”
I check the connections.
Ahhhh, the wall outlet end wasn’t pushed in all the way.
Whew!

Oh, I need to record a message.
I hate hearing my voice.
Who knew I sounded like a high pitched squeaky rat?
A high pitched squeaky Southern rat at that.
Ok, test number 2

It rings, sounding a bit odd, almost like a ring a cling—not a ring a ring.
Oh well, new phone—new sound. I can live with that.
Suddenly—again. . .WHAT?
Message: New Voice Mail
AGGGGHHHHHH.
I grab the manual. . .again.
It explains that one’s service provider must supply an access code.
Are you freaking kidding me?! I’ve got to call AT&T?
Trust me, the thought of being on hold for hours, only to speak with someone in India, is not how I wish to spend my afternoon.

A lady answers.
She can’t help me as it appears as if we are actually hooked up through UVerse.
What the heck? When did they become two separate entities? Gees!!
She transfers me to India.
I explain to the young lady, with the very heavy accent named Lisa, what my problem is and she reassures me that she understands and will be happy to help me.

She tells me I need an access code.
Ya think?
I explain that I don’t have an access code.
She then tells me that she’ll set me up with one.
I explain that I have an answering machine already asking why I need AT&T or UVerse, or whomever, providing me with a voice mail system when my phone has an answering machine.
She puts me on hold.
After a couple of minutes she comes back.
“Julie do you still see the message?”
Well it’s a bit difficult to see the message as I’m on the phone”
“uh”
“How ’bout I hang up the cordless phone picking up the wall mount phone?”
“Oh good idea, Julie”

I do what I can.

Sure enough—I pick up the wall mount receiver, putting down the cordless.
Message: New Voice Message.
“May I put you on hold again Julie?”
What am I going to say, No?
I wait again for Lisa to work whatever magic she does behind the scenes.
“Is it still there Julie?”
“Yes, but I have an idea. How about we hang up, so that when the phones’ not in use, I can check the screen?”
“Oh very good idea Julie, I will call you back in 2 minutes”

Low n behold. No message!!!
Hallelujah!!!!
The phone rings.
“hello Lisa”
“Hello Julie, I must tell you that this call may be recorded”
“Yes, Lisa, I know”
“Good news, there is no message”
“Oh Julie, I am so glad. Is there anything else that I can do for you?
“No Lisa, but I greatly appreciate your help.”

And so went my entire afternoon but at least I now have 4 new phones that do not blink nor post erroneous messages that simply never go away.

I’m certain that those of you who are reading this, who are of a certain youthful age, are flippantly thinking how old fashioned I am. You marvel over technology as it is all you have ever known. My son, the mid twenty somethings, are the last group who were not “babysat” by things like iPads. His world’s gadget was the Gameboy. My world’s gadget was the Barbie. Hummm

The technology gods can’t wait for my generation to die off.
Those of us who spend 10 minutes texting our children a mere “I love you” verses the clicky little ILY spit out in a nano second.
We enjoy hearing connected voices without the worry of data plans and over usage fees.
We enjoy voices verses letters.
We enjoy face to face conversations while being in the same room with other people verses being in a room full of people whose heads are cast downward, fingers and thumbs working feverishly while nary a sound is uttered.
We prefer real tangible books. The feel of paper, the weight and heft of a real volume.
We still enjoy the art of writing. Pen to paper. Not the click click of a key pad.
There are several boxes of classic vinyl LPs and 48s in the basement. . .
I miss them.

There’s just something about being “old school” and believe you me, I’m proud of it and still going strong. Now if I could just figure out how to use the remote to this new “smart” TV—what in the heck is a smart TV and why did we need one?!

“Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation…tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. His anxiety subsides. His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.”
― Jean Arp