When you consider how many ways we have to do ourselves in — falls, cuts, crashes, etc. — I’m amazed we mostly make it through the day. I don’t know about you, but I’ve sure had my share of near misses though.
The other day, we finally got to take a road trip to see our grandchildren. This after getting vaccinations and quarantining at home for 10 days just to be allowed into our daughter’s house (she’s a stickler when it comes to COVID safety precautions).
So now I’m loading stuff into the back seat of my truck. At one point, I stepped up on the running board, as I’ve done many times before, to rearrange things, Tetris-like, in the hope of fitting it all in. I extend my leg to go up but this time, instead of my head going inside the truck, I wound up bashing it right above my hairline, on the top of my forehead.
There is a metal loop up there on the truck that the upper door latch catches on, and I hit it hard. There was blood all over the place. What a way to start a road trip.
I ran into the house screaming with blood all over my face. My wife used paper towels to stop the bleeding. Quite frankly, no pun intended, I’d felt a sharp pain in my neck when I bashed my head, so I was thankful I’d gotten off with only a cut.
Still my wife thought it would be a good idea to get it looked at. I wound up having three staples put in my head to close the gash. Yes, staples. When I had them removed a week later, I could see they were made of fine metal wire with three prongs each.
I never heard of this before but they did work. I felt a little like Frankenstein.
The other day, I was sharpening some lawn-mower blades. Of course you have to check to see when you’re done. Normally I can do this with just a gentle pat of a finger, but this time I sliced myself and drew more blood. Are you sensing a pattern here? Yikes.
So many times I’m doing some kind of work on something, and I get so into it that time just passes. Then later on, when I go to take a shower, I notice cuts, scratches, and scrapes, having no idea how they happened. I honestly don’t know how that is possible. You would think you would feel those kinds of things.
Maybe your nerves get less sensitive as you get older. Or maybe when you’re really into something you get less sensitive to pain. Who knows.
One time, I was taking the kids to a church service. I had them in car seats in a mini-van. After I parked, I got out, opened the big, sliding side door, and reached in to get the first car seat out.
I don’t know what happened but I misjudged it badly and bashed my head into the top of the car, very hard. The funny thing is that was one service I really enjoyed. Maybe some sermons just go well with a light concussion.
A new thing that people do now that is very dangerous is get so involved with their phones that they will literally walk out in front of a car or walk into an open manhole cover. That is just scary. Nothing on your phone is that important.
In fact, I often forget to turn on the Bluetooth when I’m driving. When that happens and the phone rings, I just ignore it. I’m not going to risk an accident to answer a phone call, period. Whatever it is just has to wait.
I’ve had a bunch more of these kinds of unforeseen incidents over the years. I have:
— Walked into a patio door that was so clean it might as well have been invisible;
— Walked into a streetlight lamppost due to not paying attention;
— Grabbed a pot on the stove without an oven mitt;
— Showed someone how I cut myself while slicing a bagel, and in the process proceeded to cut myself exactly the same way again;
— Hammered my thumb;
— Stuck a screwdriver up my nose;
— Fell off a ladder (at least twice);
— Bashed my toes into many different things;
— Stepped on Legos while going to the bathroom in the dark.
And on and on and on. I guess I’m lucky to be alive at this point.
Mr. Webster defines an accident as “an unforeseen and unplanned event or circumstance.” There is a lot of wisdom in that.
For example, I still work on my own cars as much as I can. Sometimes you have to work underneath the car, which means jacking it up and putting it on stands. When I do this, I examine things every which way from Sunday to make absolutely, positively sure everything is solid and safe.
You would think that’s enough but you can never be sure. I received notice that many jack stands of the same brand I use had been recalled. The advice was to stop using them immediately.
I ran out to the garage and checked my numbers. Fortunately, I don’t have any of the ones that are in the recall, but what if I did and they collapsed while I was under the car? Or what if the ones I’m using now get recalled in the future?
All you can do is, whatever it is you’re doing, think safety first at all times, always. And pray.
You should always be aware of your circumstances and be careful at all times, but at the same time you don’t want to obsess over it. It’s possible to get so worried about potential calamities that you don’t ever want to leave the house, commonly known as agoraphobia.
Oh man. I don’t know about you, but being stuck home during the pandemic means I’m dying to travel and get outside to have some fun again. As soon as things open up, that’s just what I plan to do. I guess I’ll just try to be careful, hope for the best, and try not to bash my head while getting into vehicles.
When I write these columns, dear reader, I try to find topics that I think will be of general interest in the community that this wonderful newspaper serves. Today, I’m going to take a different tack, by writing a column that I myself would love to read in a newspaper. Excited? I sure am, so here we go.
Hey, all you guys and gals who work, no matter what your job is — roofer, nurse, farmer, or even computer jockey like me — thank you for your service. By working, you are contributing to your family by putting food on the table; to your community by supporting your friends and neighbors through your taxes; and to your country by continuing to support the work ethic that makes this country great.
You rock! Feel free to pat yourself on the back, if you have that kind of range of motion in your shoulder.
On the political front — are you kidding me? Gag me with a spoon!
On the transportation front, I’m seeing electric vehicles are gaining run time as battery technology continues to improve. I don’t know if we’ll see it in our lifetime, but someday private vehicle ownership will be rare or gone.
Instead, you’ll open an app on your phone and a driverless pod-like contraption will show up at your door and take you to your destination, where it will drop you off and then continue merrily on its way. I just hope, when that happens, the car and motorcycle guys will still be allowed to have their old fossil-fuel-burning relics to play with.
On the pollution front, it is estimated that by 2050 the weight of discarded plastic in the oceans will be more than the weight of fish. My family has been ordering take-out during the pandemic to support local restaurants, and I just can’t believe the amount of plastic required for a take-out meal.
Somebody smarter than me — there are plenty of you out there, obviously — please figure out a way to reduce single-use plastic in take-out meals. Please.
On the sports front — wait, forget about sports. I’m a huge sports fan but there is too much coverage of sports as it is, especially when we have so many urgent, real problems to deal with.
On the competing-priorities front, I have tons of great recipes yet I need to lose weight. Maybe you do too.
You’re going to eat sweets anyway, so try this: Pour a dry chocolate cake mix from a box into a bowl. Add a can of black beans, with the liquid. Add a tablespoon of cinnamon. Mix in a blender or food processor until the skins of the beans are gone. Bake for the time and temperature listed on the box.
Let cool then cut into brownies. Maybe not health food but they taste great and have to be better for you than normal brownies because of the beans. At least that’s what I tell myself.
On the interior-decorating front, I don’t care what paint, wallpaper, and flooring you use: If your house is cluttered, it will not look good. Apparently a lot of folks are with me, because when I go to the landfill, I often see stuff on the pile that is better than stuff I’m using. Clean out the junk, now.
On the obsession front, I’ve now read everything by Kurt Vonnegut, Haruki Murakami, and Lee Child. Now I have to find some new favorite authors (starting with David Baldacci).
On the we-all-could-use-a-good-laugh front, a guy was asked if he woke up grouchy. “Heck no,” he replied, “I let her sleep.”
On the facts-not-mattering-so-much front: Consumer Reports does an annual car issue. Every year they say Jeeps are too expensive, noisy, and unreliable. Yet you see more and more Jeeps all over the place. So much for the facts mattering.
On the it’s-about-time front: I don’t care what your religion is or if you don’t have a religion — if we could all simply treat each other the way we’d like to be treated, the world would be a much, much better place.
From my great quotations file: “If you’re lucky enough to be living your passion, no matter what your business, I congratulate you. And if you’re not yet doing so, what are you waiting for? Start working at it — you’ll never be bored or unhappy.” — Steve DiFillippo, owner of Davio’s Restaurants, from his really interesting memoir, “It’s All About the Customer.”
Let’s take a break right here and list some of my favorite shows on National Public Radio: Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me; The New Yorker Radio Hour; Radio Deluxe; Le Show; Freakonomics; and Fresh Air. If you aren’t listening to these shows, you don’t know what you are missing. Long live NPR.
On the reality TV front: I don’t watch any — zilch — so-called “reality TV,” which is in fact the furthest thing from reality, except for “Forged in Fire” on the History channel. This is where four bladesmiths from all walks of life compete in a timed trial to make a knife.
It’s just great on every level — craftsmanship, fortitude, perseverance, etc. Yet because it is indeed reality TV, they put the commercials right at the key dramatic parts. Still, if you have any interest in the age-old trades of blacksmithing and knife-making, it’s must see TV.
On the fashion front: The other day somebody asked me — me — about fashion. I know nada about fashion, but I know that you could put a natural beauty like my wife, Charlotte, in a potato sack and she’d still be a knockout. Still, I support the fashion industry because it provides lots of jobs and it juices the economy. Gotta love that.
On the I-could-do-without-it front: There are a bunch of very common activities that I don’t do at all: swimming, skiing, fishing, dancing, hunting, shooting, and golf. Of all of these, the only two I even care a little about are swimming, since it could save a life, and dancing, since it gets you close to women. It’s not too late to learn either of them, thankfully.
On the very under-appreciated front, let’s give big props to mathematics. Do you realize when they send a probe to the outer planets, they have to figure out where the probe and the planet will be literally years in the future?
The fact that the walls in your house are at right angles, and the bank can figure out the compound interest on your loan and on your savings is mathematics in daily practical use. Video games, the internet, efficient farming, and so much more are all possible because of mathematics.
Even music, which we all love, is very mathematical. If teachers harped on the sheer beauty and daily utility of mathematics instead of rote memorization we’d all be a lot better off.
Some people use drugs and alcohol to escape reality, with often terrible or even fatal results. I have a better idea: Sit down and read “The Hobbit,” written in 1937 by J. R. R. Tolkein. I just read this recently for the first time and I was blown away. Sheer joy. I can’t wait to read it to my grandson. Immerse yourself in “Middle Earth” and you won't need any other way to escape reality.
From the amazing animal facts department: A hummingbird weighs less than a penny, a cat’s lower jaw cannot move sideways, and penguins have an organ above their eyes that converts seawater to fresh water.
Here are three great smells: a baby’s head, fresh asphalt, and early morning out in the country on your bicycle or motorcycle.
If you don’t know these names, look them up on YouTube and be prepared to laugh until you cry: Jack Benny, Sid Caesar, Jackie Gleason, Bob Hope, Carol Burnett, Tim Conway, Lucille Ball, Bob Newhart. You don’t have to be dirty to be funny.
If you’re looking for something fun to do while there’s a pandemic, have you considered motorcycling? The helmet is your mask; motorcycling is by default socially distant, and it’s just plain fun. Hudson Valley Community College offers the beginning rider course where you get your motorcycle license when you finish, which is a great way to get into riding.
When you’re out on a nice day with the sun at your back and the wind in your face, COVID will be the last thing you’re thinking about.
Finally, to everyone who works in supermarkets, hardware stores, restaurants, and all kinds of offices, which all require wearing a mask all day— thank you. Your perseverance and dedication are what have made this truly awful time at least bearable. We all appreciate you very, very much.
As I begin my seventh decade, it occurs to me I must be doing something right to make it this far (though you wouldn’t necessarily know that by just looking at me, haha). I’m a computer guy at heart, and computer guys love acronyms so in the hope of sharing my philosophy of life with you in as helpful a manner as possible I’ve created an acronym to make it easy to remember — PARTNERED. Let’s go through it letter by letter:
— P — Physical activity. It is very important if you want to stay healthy to include some kind of physical activity in your life. Over the years, I’ve done just about everything except swimming and skiing. If you do nothing else, at least try and get in some walking. It’s fun, it’s easy, and it’s incredibly beneficial to you in so many ways. If the drug companies could put all the benefits of waking into a pill it would be the most popular pill out there for sure, yet we can do it for free. Good deal;
— A — Attitude. You need to accept that things won’t always go your way. No matter how smart you are or how hard you try, every now and then the ball won’t bounce your way. You must learn how to deal with it. I actually heard on the radio recently that something like one out of 10 people are just not going to like you for no reason at all. Yikes. Make sure you are mentally tough enough to stick to your core values despite all the noise. Being tough is much more than big muscles or nasty weapons. Control your attitude and you control everything;
— R — Read, and then read some more. I cannot stress how important this is. You need to read to get other viewpoints, to build up your base of knowledge, and to learn about things you might never be exposed to otherwise. Plus reading is just plain fun. Take it from me — the book is often much better than the movie. Run, don’t walk, to your local library right after you finish this article! I mean it — support your local library and all the wonderful programs it offers. You show me a good library and I’ll show you a happy, vibrant community;
— T — Be on Time. I can’t stress enough how important this is. Maybe, just maybe, there may be some reason to be “fashionably late” in your personal world, but certainly not in the world of business. I’ve always made it a point to try my hardest to be on time for everything as a matter of respect to whoever it was that invited me. How refreshing it is to be there, relaxed and ready, when things just start. I can’t imagine doing it any other way. When you make being on time one of your core values you will be surprised how much better things go for you;
— N — Notice others. By this I mean be aware of others, the same way you’d like them to be aware of you. This means little things like letting them pull out of gas stations, to big things like not berating them if they hold different views than you do. Imagine how boring it would be if we all thought and acted alike. It used to be we had manners and could engage in discussing our differences politely. I’m hoping, for society’s sake, we’ll get back to that someday. I miss civil, intelligent discussion — by our leaders in government, by the talking heads on TV, by our friends on social media — more than anything else these days;
— E — Eat wisely. This is a tough one, as we are bombarded with fast-food places and junk food commercials all the time. Still, your body will help you with this one, whether you want it to or not. If you can eat “clean” most of the time — lean meat, vegetables, not a lot of desserts — then you can splurge now and then. But if your idea of a vegetable is a “blooming onion,” you’re going to have problems. Learning to cook, if you don’t know how, is a great idea because then you can control what you’re eating. In computing, we say GIGO — Garbage In, Garbage Out. It’s the same with our bodies;
— R — Responsibility. This is the big one. I know only about five people who, if they tell me they are going to do something, I have no doubt it will get done. That’s how I try to be and how you should try to be. If you are known as a man or woman of your word, there is no higher honor. Being responsible is the ultimate sign of maturity. This doesn’t mean you have to be an angel all the time. We all need to let our hair down now and then. But when you give your word, do your best to keep it. If you can do this, consistently, people will notice and the world will be a better place;
— E — Enjoy. Life is short. You should try to enjoy your short time on this big blue-green marble if you can. By enjoy I don’t mean making it all about money, either. For me enjoyment is sitting under a tree with a glass of iced tea and a good book, or doing a crossword puzzle, or helping my grandson build a wood-block tower. Find out how to get your dopamine (the “feel-good” brain neurotransmitter) flowing — yoga, volunteering, going fishing, whatever — and go for it. There are so many ways to really enjoy life, and many of the best ones are free. Go for it. You deserve it;
— D — Demand accountability. If you order a pizza and it comes all soggy and cold, you have a right to demand a new one. In the same way, if you eat the biggest sundae for dessert, you better go run five miles the next day. Demand accountability from people you’re paying, and more importantly, from yourself, at all times. You can do it. Demanding the best from others is much easier when you set a good example by demanding the best from yourself. Set high standards and go from there. You can’t always be perfect, but as they say in the military, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.”
Finally, let’s discuss the acronym itself, “partnered.” We, all of us humans, are social animals. We can’t exist in isolation, by default. It’s just not our nature.
We need one or more of the following, the more the merrier (in alphabetical order): family, friends, God, pets. Without someone to confide in, have fun with, and ride out all of life’s ups and downs with, we’d be lost.
I’ve had people tell me, “You don’t need friends.” And I’ve just never understood that kind of thinking. Life is so much more fun when you can enjoy it with others.
So there you have it. Getting “partnered” has served me very well over the years. I hope it does the same for you.
Humans have made many fantastic discoveries: fire, the wheel, refrigeration, Netflix, etc. But there is one discovery that has been truly revolutionary; without it, the entire world as we know it would not even be possible. That discovery, the greatest of all time I believe, is the tiny but mighty little marvel, the transistor.
Some of my fondest memories are of lying on a towel at either Rockaway Beach or Jones Beach, watching the beautiful blue ocean and the golden tanned girls while listening to a transistor radio tuned to 770AM WABC and “Cousin Brucie” in the sixties. Groups like the Supremes, the Beach Boys, and the Rolling Stones never sounded better than on those tinny little speakers.
Of course, technology always marches on and transistor radios became “boom boxes,” which ruined it for everybody. But personal portable music in any form was still revolutionary at the time, and it was all made possible due to the transistor.
Prior to transistors, there were vacuum tubes that did the same thing, but they were delicate, got hot, and burned out often. It used to be you could actually take the back off your TV, pull out the vacuum tubes, and run down to the drug store where you could test them yourself in a special machine. Imagine that, repairing something rather than throwing it away. What a novel concept!
Transistors, by being so much smaller and more dependable than vacuum tubes, allowed all the technology we are so familiar with today — cell phones, computers, satellites, and so much more — to be possible. We take them for granted because they are invisible but they are working hard for us all the time.
Plus they are stone-axe simple, just a grain of sand (actually silicon) that has been “doped” with some other elements to make that sand into something special, by being able to conduct electricity some of the time, and not conduct it other times. That’s why transistors are called “semiconductors.” Let’s talk about how these mighty little guys work.
Imagine you’re driving down the Northway, past Crossgates Mall, and you get all the way to the end. Now you’re waiting at the light on Western Avenue. So you’re pointing straight, and you can only go left or right.
Well, a transistor has three leads. In our example, where you’re in your car staring at the light is one lead. To the east of the light, going toward Albany, is the second lead, and to the west of the light, going toward Schenectady, is the third lead.
From your perspective, when the light is red, cars can move east and west, but when the light is green, they can’t go anywhere. The transistor functions like a switch, just like the traffic light. This switching action is exactly what a transistor does, over and over again, very speedily, cheaply, and supremely reliably.
By functioning as a simple switch, transistors made cell phones and computers and ventilators and just about everything in our modern digital world possible. Digital means something that is “off” is represented as a zero, and something that is “on” is represented as a one.
All around us — in the air and in the wires and cables — these zeroes and ones fly around making us connected to each other as never before in human history. Without the miniaturization of the now-ubiquitous transistor, none of this would have been possible (for better or worse if you are on social media).
If all transistors did was this switching or on-off function, that would be enough to make them the greatest invention of all time. Keep reading though, because as they say on late night info-mercials: “But wait, there’s more!”
Imagine you’re outside holding your garden hose. If you squeeze the trigger just a little bit, you’ll get a little bit of water flow. If you squeeze the trigger all the way, you’ll get the most water flow. If you modulate the trigger between a little and all the way you’ll get a corresponding amount of water flow.
The point is: A very small movement of your hand controls the flow of a large amount of water. Well, if you put a little bit of electricity on one leg of the transistor, a little bit of it will flow across the other two legs, but if you put a lot of electricity on the one leg, a much larger amount can be controlled on the other two legs.
This ability of a small amount of electrical current controlling a much larger amount is called amplification. It’s what allowed those small speakers in the original transistor radios to make sound that we could hear without those big and bulky vacuum tubes.
This combination of switching and amplifying is what makes the transistor the greatest invention of all time. Nothing else comes close.
For me, every time my car starts right up I think of transistors. It used to be that cars had carburetors with so-called “automatic chokes.” Depending on the outside temperature and when the car had last run, you had to press on the gas pedal one or two times before you tried to start the car.
If you got it wrong, you flooded the engine and then had to sit there and wait. Not a good thing when you had to be to your class or your job right away. EFI, or Electronic Fuel Injection, which enables modern cars to just start right up virtually all the time, is made possible because of transistors. Wow. What a miracle.
Electronics hobbyists like me can still buy single or “discrete” transistors, but it’s much more common nowadays to find transistors packed in tightly on “integrated circuits.” Gordon Moore, the founder of Intel, stated many decades ago that the number of transistors on an integrated circuit “chip” would double approximately every 18 months, and by gosh he’s been right even to this day, though someday the laws of physics will finally stop it.
But consider this – the average smartphone contains 460 billion transistors. That is quite something!
In Albany and in Malta, we have “chip fab” plants that make computer chips. The most common kind of transistor they make for these chips is called a MOS-FET, which stands for Metal Oxide Semiconductor – Field Effect Transistor.
In fact, the MOS-FET is the single most produced item in human history, at thirteen sextillion (a sextillion is a 1 followed by 21 zeros) and counting. Holy moly.
Transistors are truly miraculous devices that help our cars start, let us fly to the moon and beyond, and make our lives better in so many ways. I’m just glad I got to be alive during the time of the transistor.
Handsome, strong, and talented boxer Muhammad Ali always said he was “the greatest.” To many, he was, but I’ll vote for the transistor any day.
On days when I telecommute from my home due to the coronavirus, I sit in my first-floor office, with the computer on the right and a window facing the street on the left. This setup presents an interesting dichotomy: the real world on the left and the world of work on the right. I’d really much rather be back in my real office, but at least I don’t have to wear a mask at home.
My day starts early in the morning, when I simultaneously open the window and boot up the computer. I usually have the radio on as well, either news or classical music (the early morning waltzes are really great, they make you feel like dancing).
Since I work in information technology, a lot of my job entails what is euphemistically called “putting out fires,” i.e., fixing stuff that is broken. Fortunately, things run pretty smoothly for the most part so that’s good.
There are still meetings and all the other tasks that make for a work week but, if you just stare at the screen, for all practical purposes, it’s like being at work, minus the small talk, doughnuts, water cooler, and the myriad other sounds and smells of office life. I never wanted to mix home and work like this, but it is what it is, at least for the time being or until I retire.
Then there is the window, my portal to the outside world. Surprisingly, things in the neighborhood happen in a very predictable pattern. In fact, it’s so regimented and repeatable my neighbors should be happy I’m not a thief, haha.
First, there are the dog walkers. In some cases, the dogs are so big it looks like they’re pulling along their person, who is acting as a brake. In other cases, the dogs are so small — some the size of cats — that they have to run to keep up with the person who is just walking.
There is even one lady who carries a small brown dog in a kind of harness, like a purse with dangling legs, a wet nose, and a tail. I don’t know what that’s all about.
Sometimes one of the dogs will pee right on my front lawn. When that happens, for the rest of that morning, every other dog that passes by will stop right at that spot and often add a little pee of their own.
Imagine what that’s like: “Hey, Mary was here, and she had asparagus last night! Let me congratulate her.”
What a different world dogs live in. I would love to have a dog, I really would, but trailing behind an animal with a plastic bag filled with its poop is just a leap I’m not willing to make at this time. What I’d really like to know is why it’s taking so long to invent Pampers for dogs.
There are a lot of couples that walk past my house on a regular basis. Many of them are neighbors I know. Interestingly, when they walk they just walk. It doesn’t appear they are talking at all.
When I walk with my wife, she is constantly telling me to lower my voice, because it’s naturally loud and she doesn’t want me to broadcast our family business. Maybe I should try not talking. Seems to work well for everybody else.
Of course there are bicycle riders. Some of them, all leaned over with their forearms on the handlebars and decked out in brightly colored clingy spandex, look like they made a wrong turn at the Tour de France. When I find time to ride my bicycle I’m sitting up straight and wearing sweatpants.
I like the idea of riding to get in shape, but I’m not sure I can handle “the look.” I know, if you ride 50 miles those duds wick away sweat and prevent chafing and all that. But you don’t need a helmet when you go running, so there.
One day a week, the guys in the big truck come by to take the garbage and the recyclables. One guy drives the rig, the other hangs off the back like a cowboy riding a horse side-saddle.
Then they both hook the pails to the big arm on the truck as it flips them to ingest the contents. You would think this was automatic, but the guys are there as this happens, moving stuff around, making sure the pails empty, and sorting stuff as it falls (lets face it, we all put stuff in the recycling bin that we hope is recyclable but is probably not).
I was so impressed watching these guys work — something I never saw when I was commuting to work — that I got them each a gift card to Dunkin. They do good, honest work; they work hard; and they deserve it. Any time someone does a good job for you, at a minimum, let them know how satisfied you are.
I live on the side of the street where the mail comes early, so that’s good. Yes, it’s mostly bills but I get magazines and packages and the occasional letter or postcard, so it’s always something to look forward to.
UPS is different — they are always in a hurry, hyper even. I like them, but I think their policy of not allowing facial hair is not right. Nicely trimmed beards and mustaches make a guy look handsome. And why are there no UPS ladies?
Sometimes we get FedEx. They’re more laid back than UPS but more intense than USPS. How interesting that they all have their little quirks.
There are a lot of kids out with their parents since the schools closed. Sometimes it’s like a mother duck or bear, with the kids trailing along in single file.
When they’re on bicycles, however, the parents usually ride sweep, so they can keep an eye on things from the rear. Whatever, it’s just good to see the kids getting outside. There is always time for TV and video games in the house (and reading if they know what’s good for them).
My wife doesn’t have a lot of free time, but she has been getting out for walks with several friends lately. That’s good. Wish I could join them. I have to wait until my work day is over, when I can use the saved time from not commuting to do something fun or something around the house.
Not a lot of traffic where I live, but there is some. Fortunately, in my neighborhood, the cars that go by generally adhere to the speed limit. This is good because there are no sidewalks and a lot of folks are out on the street as I’ve described.
You can often tell by the sound when a car is going too fast. Big trucks are easily noticed by the roar and the rumble in the ground. And when the riding mowers, leaf blowers, and weed whackers all start up, switch to the rock station and turn up the music!
There’s one guy who runs by every day in gym clothes. I call him “Rocky” because he looks like he’s training for a boxing match.
Then there are three ladies who always walk together in a row and talk nonstop. They’re the coffee klatch. And there are a lot of pretty young runners who fly on by. Some of them even pass me when I’m out jogging, the nerve of them.
It’s all good though. Nice to know there is life in the community.
The neighbors’ houses I can see from my window are all quiet during the day, except when the kids visit. Then it’s a flurry of activity as the flock returns to the nest, often with their own flock in tow. Busy, busy, busy! The cycle of life continues.
I didn’t ask to be a telecommuter; it was forced on me due to circumstances beyond my control. I’m slowly adjusting to it. Life goes on.
As the holidays approached this year, I wanted to do something special with the guitar, even though I’m only a new player. Due to all the sadness over the covid, I was hoping to spread some cheer for my family and friends by finding something to play and post on social media.
Then one day, in one of my lesson books, I found it: a slimmed-down version of “Ode to Joy” by Beethoven, played only with single notes on the first two strings, with no difficult chord changes to mess up. Even I could handle that.
I practiced the piece over and over. I never got to the point where I just had it “in my fingers” though; I still had to have the sheet music in front of me. But I figured the sight of me playing from reading sheet music would add to the whole “hell must have frozen over” effect of me playing any music in any way, shape, or form.
I’m over 60 and I’ve only just started playing. Making music is still very new and strange to me. When I even attempt it, I often imagine it’s kind of like how those iguanas that fall out of the trees in Florida when the temperature gets close to freezing must feel.
So I practiced, practiced, and practiced, until it was finally Christmas Eve. At that point, I arranged a chair and a music stand besides our brightly decorated Christmas tree. Then I roped my daughter in to assist.
I set my phone to record video, and instructed her to click record after counting down by saying “3 - 2 - 1,” at which point I would begin the piece. And then quickly bomb. This sequence of her counting down and me bombing happened over and over again. Sigh.
What happened was I got so nervous the minute she hit “record” that I could feel butterflies in my stomach, as the saying goes. At that point, I realized that practicing alone by yourself in your jammies at your leisure is not the same as playing “live.” I had been practicing the music, but I had not been practicing the performance.
Watching and hearing this, my professional musician wife chimed in: “Now you know how I felt when we’d have a party and you’d ask me to just go play something on the piano or the organ out of the blue.” Point taken.
She is of course right, but what did I know. It took me playing music myself to finally realize it. Good thing I do a good job taking care of her car and motorcycle, haha.
I’ve been a member of Toastmasters for years. This is the worldwide club for people who want to improve their public speaking and communications skills. I’ve won trophies in public speaking, I’ve won speech contests, and I’ve mentored other public speakers.
All this training and experience has helped me immensely in getting up in front of a crowd at work, at church, or any place where I need to communicate to a group. I still get a little anxious at first, so I tend to speak too fast until my breathing calms down, but I have no problem speaking in front of people.
Yet all this wonderful practice and training didn’t help me get the notes of the guitar straight once the filming started.
They say, as long as you keep learning you’ll never grow old. At this pace, I’m going to be immortal.
At any rate, I did post the video of me playing “Ode to Joy.” In it, you can see me grimace when I make a mistake. After about 20 retakes, I finally just posted one and washed my hands of it.
My friends and family gave me a lot of likes, so that was great, but knowing I’d done it so much better in practice leaves me truly humbled. Next year, I hope to find another piece, practice the hell out of it, and do better. Something to strive for.
I have many musician friends who play in bands and make it look so easy. In fact, one of my guitar books had a chapter on performing for others. It said, when playing live, just ignore any mistakes and move on, because most listeners won’t even notice them. Apparently this is one reason professional musicians find studio recording, where you strive for perfection, much more stressful than playing live.
All I know is I’m in awe of anyone who can play anything well in front of other people. My hat is off to all of you, from the neophyte fifth-grade musicians in the school band, to the top-notch orchestra at The Met that supports world-class tenors and sopranos, to each and every hardworking and dedicated choir member and church musician. You are all, each and every one of you, my heroes.
If you are a musician or have a musician friend or relative, I very highly recommend the book “Practicing: a Musician’s Return to Music,” by Glenn Kurtz, from 2007, www.vintagebooks.com. This heartfelt little book is about a very promising classical guitarist who returns to his instrument after many years of not playing.
The prose flows like honey, a visceral dive into the pain and passion a true music lover goes though in the dogged pursuit of his or her craft. This is a short book, so buy several copies and give them as gifts to your musician friends and relatives. You’ll be a big hit for sure, trust me.
Playing music in my twilight years after being a devoted listener my whole life is proving to be an exciting and immersive journey, a true “ode to joy.” Amazing.
P.S. If you promise not to make fun of my orange Crocs, or the fact that my shirt is on backwards, you can see my halting performance at https://tinyurl.com/y7dgwwpr.
The other day — Saturday, Dec. 19, 2020, in fact — I woke up dead. I knew I was dead because it was way past when I normally get up and I couldn’t feel or sense anything as I lay there in bed.
Surprisingly, being dead was not that much different than being alive. It was actually very relaxing, in a trance-like way. Kind of like being at a zoning board meeting.
There was one big difference about waking up dead. What happened was a movie started playing in my head. It was like the credits at the end of a movie, not the movie itself.
It started to list all the clubs I was a member of back when I was alive. Here’s the thing, though: I’ve been in a lot of clubs over the years, but the screen in my head was listing clubs I never knew I’d been a member of.
The first club listed was People who Blame their Parents for not being Perfect. Turns out this is a huge club (they listed the membership at the time I died and it was a big, long number with a lot of commas in it).
Among the reasons I was a member of this club was that I never got music lessons or swimming lessons or went to Disneyland or even had a yard or basement to play in. Still, I grew up in a loving Italian family and we ate like royalty every Sunday, so I was surprised I was in this club.
The things you find out when you wake up dead!
The movie kept scrolling. The next club listed was People who think they could have Done So Much More. This was strange as well.
I mean, when I was alive, I was a college graduate with a good job, a beautiful wife, and three educated, working, successful children. I had a lot of friends, tried to be a good person, and helped out whenever I could.
Then it pointed out that I at one time had a full scholarship to one of the best engineering schools in the country, but that I threw it away to live like I was in my own daily “Animal House” movie from my teens to my early twenties. Ouch.
I try not to think about that so much, because it really did happen. Somehow things turned out OK anyway, despite my best attempts otherwise.
Finding out when you’re dead what clubs you were a member of when you were alive isn’t always that great.
The movie screen kept scrolling. The next club I had been a member of was People who don't know when to Shut Up. Oddly, I had known all along when I was alive that I had been a member of this club, but that didn’t stop me from putting my foot in my mouth on a regular basis.
This is a really interesting club to be in. Why? Imagine you’re at a party and you ask the hostess, who is, shall we say, not slim, when she’s due. She then gives you The Eye and says “I’m not pregnant.”
From that moment on, for the rest of your life, you will be known in that circle as The Jerk Who Thought She Was Pregnant. That's why the People who don’t know when to Shut Up club is so extraordinary. It’s benefits never go away, even when you very much want them to.
I could go on but I’m sure you get the drift. Other clubs I had been a member of when I was alive, without even knowing it, kept on scrolling by:
— People who really don't want to know what's under those kilts;
— People who get suckered into political arguments on Facebook;
— People who wonder why men no longer have chest hair;
— People who are not as funny as they think they are;
— People who should listen more;
— People who shop at Walmart and then complain that nothing is made in the USA;
— People who think nobody can hear them passing gas;
— People who actually think the Minnesota Vikings will win a Super Bowl someday;
— People who hold grudges, like, for a long time;
— People who don't "get" cats even though the rest of the world is crazy about them;
— People who think pineapple on pizza should be a crime; and
— People with toenails that are in fact weapons.
Then the very last club appeared. It was called People who can Still Learn to Forgive.
The membership count for this club was, unfortunately, very small. This one was accompanied by a really deep, heavenly voice, like the guy in the Allstate commercial (“You're in good hands”).
The voice said, and I’m not making this up: “Frank, you did indeed wake up dead today but, if you agree to join this club — People who can Still Learn to Forgive — we'll agree to let you live so you can see your grandson again and ride your motorcycle and learn to play a few songs on the guitar. But you must promise to really make an effort to learn to forgive. It’s that important.”
The next thing I knew, my eyes opened, I reached over to feel if my lovely wife was still there (she was), and I realized that I was going to be allowed to live again. Hot dawg!
Waking up dead turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’ve already forgiven David Chase for ending “The Sopranos” (spoiler alert) with a blank screen, and I’m working on forgiving Stewart’s for getting rid of Star Gazer Lite ice cream.
Who knows who or what I’ll forgive next!
One of the most famous Old Testament stories is that of the Tower of Babel. It goes like this: After the Great Flood, all people spoke the same language. Then they got the idea to build a city with a tower as high as Heaven.
When God got wind of this, he didn’t like it at all. Maybe he hadn’t had his coffee that day. Truth be told, the Old Testament God was often a little cranky, to put it mildly. So he scattered all the people throughout the Earth, and as an extra bonus he made everyone speak different languages as well. Was he having a bad day or what?
I’ve always wondered how different it would be if one could approach someone from another place or culture and speak their language. Can you imagine how transformative that would be? It would be so easy to establish a rapport with them.
There is actually a language called Esperanto that was created to be one common world language but it never really took off. No one except language junkies has the time to learn an entire new language that hardly anyone else is speaking.
I was giving this some thought the other day when it occurred to me there is after all a universal language that many people from all over the world can understand. Can you guess what it is?
Hint: I’ve been learning to play the guitar, which means if you guessed the answer is written musical notation, you got it right. Yes, the notes and staffs from music class or the hymn book are indeed a universal language.
Though I never had any formal musical training, I always knew about written music. It was mostly where you got the words to the hymns in church (you got the tune from following the stronger singers). All those lines and funny little markings were cute in their own way, but it may as well have been Greek to me.
Then I married a world-class piano teacher, organist, and choir director. Over the years, she slowly got me to where I had some idea of what was going on with written music. That was great. But it was only recently, when I started learning to play guitar, that I finally understood the true power of this universal language.
A lot of guitar players — even some very famous ones — don’t know how to read music. Many of them just want to “jam,” as they say, and some go very far using various fret-board tricks and techniques. Still, there is real power in understanding written music.
Here’s one example: Once I was outside running during my lunch break at work. All of a sudden, I don’t know from where, this tune popped into my head. It was a really pleasant tune. So I stopped running and pulled out my flip-phone (this was a while ago), called my wife, and hummed the tune to her over the phone.
Would you believe she was able to take that tune and write it out, using music notation, such that it could easily be played on the piano? Man, that was so great. If you play any kind of music, why wouldn’t you want this awesome ability?
The real power of music notation is that anyone, anywhere in the Western world who knows even the rudiments of music notation can pick up a piece of sheet music or a hymn book and at the least get a feel for the piece or even play or sing it outright.
What is really incredible about music notation is how simple and straightforward it really is: You have just seven notes from A to G that repeat to give us the musical sounds; the staffs with horizontal lines and vertical bars, where each note fits on a line or on a space between the lines; the clefs (treble, bass, or other) to identify what kind of staff it is; the key (the tone or “pitch”) to tell us what musical range it’s in; the time signature (the beat); and various other markings to indicate speed (tempo) and dynamics (soft to loud).
Oh, one more thing: There are also sharps and flats, which are notes that are a semitone above (sharp) or below (flat) another note. Don’t get confused by sharps and flats; they are just the black keys on the piano (though some can be white keys as well).
Music notation is really not that complicated, yet what you can achieve with it is simply amazing. From “Happy Birthday to You” to Beethoven’s “Symphony #3 in E-flat Major” (the famous “Eroica” symphony), to everything in between, it can all be written out and played back in a language that many disparate people all over the world can easily understand, even if they don’t speak the same language. Wow!
It’s easy to extend written music from the foundation I’ve described above. You can indicate to play a note in an abrupt or disconnected fashion. This is known as “staccato.” Or you can make the notes long and continuous. This is “legato.” Or you can accent a note. This is “sforzando.” You can also play a bunch of notes smoothly and without separation. This is known as a “slur” (and it’s not a bad thing).
Have you noticed that many of these words sound very Italian? It’s because they are. Italy was where music notation really developed and took off. Just one more thing to thank us Italians for (as if great food, literature, science, music, painting, sculpting, and such warm, heartfelt, joyous and beautiful people weren’t enough).
In fact, from studying music notation, I discovered that very, very loud music in notation is called “fortississimo.” If you know me personally, you know that kind of describes me to a T, for better or worse. Oh well, I just like to have fun.
Another interesting part of music notation is the “rest.” It’s like a note except you don’t play or sing it. Turns out a lot of music depends on what you leave out.
You’d think this would be great for a beginner like me — fewer actual notes to play wrong — but you have to be careful to get your rests in at just the right time or it screws everything up. That’s right, it even takes skill to play well what you don’t actually play.
If you have any interest in music notation or music theory, I highly recommend the book “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Music Theory,” second edition, by Michael Miller, Alpha Books, 2005. This book is easy to read and makes what many find rather boring or tedious very fun and exciting.
I’m basically reading it over and over in the hope that it’ll really sink in. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be able to write the tunes in my head down on paper myself without having to call my beautiful wife. She has enough to do as it is.
The Old Testament God was really having a bad day when he scattered folks all over the world and made them speak many different languages. However, not long after that we got the gift of music and it’s incredibly versatile notation system that to this day is shared all over the world by people of different cultures to allow us to enjoy the supreme gift of music. Maybe that was God’s plan after all.
The other day, my coffee maker died. Back in the day, as they say, you could try taking the thing apart and maybe replace the heating element, switch, or something else.
These days, small appliances like this are assembled with spot welds, one-way plastic tabs, and cheesy screws such that disassembling them without destroying them is virtually impossible. So I had to toss it in the garbage, though I did save the power cord. At worst, I can recycle the wire; at best I can use it to replace a worn out cord on something else.
In the old days, at this point I would have run down to Sears at Colonie Center. There I would have found probably a dozen different coffee makers in various price ranges. After studying them for about five minutes, I would have selected one and that would have been it. Done. But, as we all know, it ain’t that easy anymore.
Now there are numerous websites devoted to coffee makers. Here every aspect of them will be dissected ad-nauseum by their many aficionados.
Of course that will lead you to Amazon, where you will find even more coffee makers with many reviews to study. The thing is, can you trust any one review? No, because it could be, I almost hate to say it, “fake news.”
That means you have to read at least 20 reviews and then take the average if you want to be sure you’re getting accurate information. That’s a lot of work, even when you’re sitting in front of the computer in your pajamas while eating a whole can of Pringles.
That’s why Sears used to be so great. For me, it was one-stop shopping, especially during the holidays. You had your whole family covered at Sears, since you could get a blouse and a wrench and everything in between.
Going to the store in person meant you could easily look at and touch the merchandise as well, and get this: You often had to interact with people. What a novel concept. A lot of us should get off our phones and computers and try it sometime, haha.
I still needed a coffee pot when I found myself in the supermarket. I decided to visit the coffee aisle. They had exactly two models of coffee makers there.
One was a simple automatic drip type, like the one I’d been using for years. It was even marked down to 50- percent off. Yippee. I quickly stuffed it into my cart.
As my glasses were fogged over from wearing a mask in the store due to the COVID pandemic and I could barely see anything, I had to make sure not to set it on top of my hopefully someday ripe tomatoes. Such is life in the time of COVID.
At this point, many folks would have whipped out their smartphone, scanned the UPC code on the coffee maker, and quickly found out the cheapest price on Amazon and other websites in case they wanted to save a few bucks. I have that app on my phone as well, but I never, ever use it.
Here’s the thing: That supermarket did me a favor by stocking that coffee maker. By doing so, I could just run in and grab it. That supermarket pays taxes to my town, employs my friends and neighbors, and endeavors to provide a safe and clean place where I can shop in peace.
It’s more important for me to buy locally like this — heck, they were even giving me 50-percent off — and keep them in business than to save a few bucks. I sincerely hope many of you agree.
I know we aren’t getting Sears back anytime soon. That’s too bad. Having a place to go where you can pick up quality merchandise when you want it and at a fair price, with actual people to interact with, is a good thing.
If you remember, Sears was even kind enough to put registers in each individual section of the store. You paid for your blouse in ladies wear, from someone who knew about ladies wear, and you paid for your wrench in tools, from someone who knew about tools. How great was that?
I often had questions when buying gifts and I really appreciated having people to ask. Perfect example of what Joni Mitchell sings about so beautifully in “Big Yellow Taxi:” “…You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” Amen to that, Joni.
Yes, I know there are other big stores that have a large selection of different merchandise, but Sears was special. They had Craftsman tools with the lifetime warranty, they had the big catalog, and they just had a good all-American “feel.”
Other mass market retailers — I won’t mention names — give me a creepy feeling. They carry a lot of cheaply made junk, there are never enough registers open, and while the prices are cheap so is the atmosphere. I can’t wait to get out of there when I’m forced to shop in those kinds of places. I never felt that way in Sears.
Like many of us, I buy stuff online all the time, but I make sure to support local stores whenever I can. Unfortunately, some of the stuff I need is so oddball (electronic parts, specialty tools, vintage motorcycle parts, etc.) no one local even carries it.
Other things I just won’t ever buy online, like shoes. They’re something I really need to try on first, unless it’s something simple like an orange pair of Crocs.
I looked at plenty of guitars online as well. Hours and hours, let me tell you. But it was only when I picked up “my” guitar in person, right in the store where I could touch and feel it, that I knew I had the right one. I know, a guitar is just another manmade inanimate object, but the “right” one will be obvious the minute you touch it.
I could go on but it makes no sense to lament the way things were. Life has moved on. I think I’ll make a pot of coffee instead.
When I was growing up, my family would often visit relatives or host relatives. It was always the same, like in every Italian household: The grownups sat at the big table, and the kids sat at the card table that was brought out for these occasions.
After a huge meal finished off with delicious pastries, the adults would then just sit there and talk over coffee. At that point, my brothers and whatever cousins were around would always leave the room to do something — anything — else.
Why? Because all the grownups would talk about were doctors and medicines and aches and pains and things like that. Kids don’t want to hear that; they want to play. You know where this is going, I’m sure.
The insufferable COVID-19 virus has prevented my family from entertaining and visiting friends and relatives. Thankfully, we still communicate in other ways.
In fact, being able to see my grandson on video calls has been a lifesaver. What we would have done without that I don’t know.
So we do keep in touch, and because we are now of That Age, we do talk about our various illnesses and whatnot. You can’t not. If someone has cancer, you want to know about it, period.
I’m in my early sixties. I feel great, yet I just had my fourth surgery in the last six years. This time it was rotator-cuff surgery on my right shoulder.
I had a nasty ground-bee infestation by my garage where I spent the better part of two weeks swatting at them. They’re gone now but they got the last laugh, as I think that’s what screwed up my shoulder. I know, I wouldn’t have believed it either, but it is what it is.
Never mind the surgeries. I’m at the age now where, when I look at the obituaries, there is a very real chance a relative, friend, neighbor, or co-worker will be in there. If you live long enough, that’s what happens. In fact, I’ve collected so many of those little plastic-coated prayer cards that they hand out at the funeral homes that pretty soon I’ll have a full deck.
Imagine there was no COVID and we were able to gather together for birthdays and other events. Surely, talk would turn to our various aches and pains, like it did in my family when I was growing up.
While it’s good to know what others are going through, you can’t extrapolate it to your own situation. That’s why you go to a doctor. Just because your buddy got this drug or that surgery doesn’t mean that will work for you.
As with cancer. Some get chemotherapy. Some get radiation. Some get chemo and radiation. Some live 20 years after diagnosis and are still going strong. Some die in a week.
The best we can do is offer encouragement and support. Each of us has our own unique physiology shaped by our genes and our lifestyles. While it may be kind of cool that your buddy goes around with a pig valve in his heart, you might need a pacemaker. That’s just how it is.
I’ve been using a CPAP [continuous positive airway pressure] machine to sleep for the last few years. Though it works well, it’s just very cumbersome and not something I’ve ever actually gotten comfortable with.
There is a new thing now where they implant a battery-powered device in your chest. When you go to bed, you click what looks like a TV remote-control to activate it, causing your tongue to move forward periodically and keep your airway open.
People who have this say it’s way more convenient than CPAP and a lot less intrusive. Downsides are it’s yet another surgery and you can no longer get a chest MRI [magnetic resonance imaging], but I’m looking into it anyway. I’ve always liked robots, so maybe I can become partly like one.
I think we have to realize that getting older involves the body breaking down, no matter what we do. Walking and exercising, eating well, having a good social support system, and keeping active with interesting activities can add years to your life and keep you mentally fit. It’s getting that to mesh with the aching joints, diminished endurance, and potentially awful diseases like cancer and diabetes that takes getting used to.
We all read about athletes having surgeries and then coming back to play again. In fact, it happens so often that we take it for granted.
Let me tell you, I for one don’t take it for granted. For my rotator-cuff surgery, I was told not to lift anything heavier than a cup of coffee with my right arm for a month, and then to start physical therapy. It will take at least six months from that point to get back to normal.
That means I had to miss the fall motorcycle riding season, the best time of the year to ride, but what can you do? It’s for the best.
We all have to cope with aging however we best can. I know for me, as long as I have access to a library and all the wonders within — books, movies, newspapers, clubs, and so much more — I’ll be OK.
I don’t care if I won a million dollars; that aspect wouldn’t change for me in the least. If I can start the day with a good newspaper like this one and end it with a good book, I’ll be happy as a flea in a doghouse.
My relatives used to sit and talk about their doctors, medications, and aches and pains all night, and it drove me crazy. I wish they were around now so I could tell them that I finally understand.