ELECTRONIC EVERYTHING!

I was reading some postings by assorted friends shocked that more people are buying electronic books instead of paper ones. Yes, I groaned and groused when I first read this -- the romantic writer side of me likes things which I perceive to be "real," as opposed to some figment of the original. 


Somewhat like I would think about a clone of a famous someone or other but that's another story.


When I was growing up, we had gadgets, because if it had something to do with electricity, my engineer father wanted to play with it. Over the years, a monolith of a stereo system (my Mom liked the furniture part of it but complained it was too loud -- Dad was big on volume), an RCA color TV, and as time waxed, newer stereo components and ever more powerful speakers. 

Clearly, I was genetically programmed for electronics and when it arrived, the internet and everything that went with it.  My early music collection took up space and had to be dusted -- these days I carry my collection in my pocket. 


The e-reader I hope to purchase will be as loved, as "real," as the dog eared Complete Works of William Shakespeare my parents gave me one birthday, now on my bookshelf along with others. 


Because the more people that have access to literature, to music, and to art, the richer we will all be, no matter in which format it is delivered to them. Thomas Edison would have loved it.


Amen, and pass the E-Mustard.

RAPTURE, REALLY?

As if we didn't have anything else to worry about, someone on the lunatic fringe pops into view with the notion that the world is going to end -- tomorrow,

in other words, the promised Biblical Rapture, not the 1980s song by Debbie Harry.


And I am shouting this next sentence.


HAROLD CAMPING IS NUTS.


A card-carrying, mind-numbing nimrod who has done a mysterioso study of the Bible and come up with a factoid that somehow has managed to capture the tiny imaginations of some, well, tiny, tiny minds.


Since the dawn of human history, philosophers and scholars have attempted to figure out the reason why we are glued to this orb that flies around the sun. I can guarantee that the earliest cave people were not hawking Geico but once in awhile probably stared at the stars overhead and wondered.


And whether or not you believe in a higher power, that's not my issue. Someday, someplace each and every one of us will discover the truth to that conundrum. 


Even Stephen Hawking has hedged his bets somewhat. 


But what I don't comprehend is how anyone could possibly think this guy is anything but a serious fruit loop who should be wearing a sweater with incredibly long sleeves.


Amen, and pass the mustard.

BAD BAG BOYS

Why do the boys at the grocery stores insist on stuffing all the heavy items into one bag?
After as yet another stint at a local market, I admit it took me awhile before I was able to walk out of the place with more than one bag for all the items I purchased.
I am of the opinion that all of the youngsters who work at supermarkets are taught to attempt to stuff as many things as possible into the same bag. Yes, these stores are trying as all of us to save money but...
The problem is these kids end up piling all the heavy bottles into the same receptacle -- and daintily place the featherweight things into the second one.
This scenario happens even if you, as I do, bring your own re-usable bags with you -- you watch them as somehow they put a half dozen glass bottles and umpteen jars and who knows what else into the same bag.
That the bag is strained to the max with the weight of these things doesn't hit their addled pates.
Okay, so they still live with their parents and have no conception of the consequence of such an endeavor, never mind the cost of groceries.
And clearly, they have not run after a cantaloupe melon making its escape down a flight of stairs, or cleaned up tomato sauce after the jar burst on the sidewalk.
But it does give me pause -- this generation is going to take over the world as I fade into oblivion. Clearly, a generation that has no idea of how much -- is too much.
Even into a simple grocery bag.
Makes me glad I'm not one of them.
Amen, and pass the mustard, which undoubtedly will be packed with a couple of tomato paste jars and a brick, maybe two.

BELA MADUREIRA DIED.

I just found out that Isabel Madureira died.

My darling, dear friend Bela. 
Through the vissicitudes of the internet, her sister sent me something on Facebook and while I was having my hair cut I got the horrid news.

The really rotten part about this is my birthday is about to happen.

In about three hours.

The timing is the sort of thing Bela would have enjoyed, in her own twisted way.

Because Bela Madureira was, well, a really, really wonderfully twisted sister.
I am torn in two.
My birthday heart is broken.
Amen, and if Bela was here, she'd want a LOT of mustard.