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 |  Impromptu writing, whatever comes...on writing or whatever the question of the day is. |
    I've been blogging all through my days without knowing that it was blogging; although, this isn't necessarily the only thing I do without knowing what I'm doing. Since I write on anything that's available around me, my life has been full of pieces of scribbled paper flying about like confetti. I'm so happy to finally have a permanent place to chew the fat.  So far my chewing the fat is on and off.  Maybe, I lack teeth. Feel free to comment, if you wish.  Thank you very much, Cindy, for this honor and the beautiful graphic.  This Blog Continues in "Everyday Canvas "    |
| The night is my life. I work fast to get some writing in, but not so much as to hear the silence, instead to mask it. Yet, my whole body listens to that silence, although I fear to hear it. With my ears perked and my head tilted, my pen, or maybe the keyboard, flows with the rhythm of my inside's depths. This is the surrendering of two worlds into each other. One is silence; the other, the mind. At the start, I am hopeful, never anticipating the ways in which I can wear out, never considering the ravages of the day, the taxing of time on my body, or the struggle of trying to shake off the closing of eyelids. Worse yet, I do not take into account the slowing mental processes after living and thinking too much. Still, I fight against the slow collapse as I murmur to myself, "One word after another…go on…go on…" The cheering section inside me never tires. Encouraged by its endurance, I attempt to rise to the occasion. My body sits upright with determination. My fingers dance on the keys and I applaud myself. Oh, yes! I have written so many words tonight. Then, I read what is on the page and I crumble. The only two paragraphs I have written need to be cut. |
| I read in the news that scientists in UC Merced are researching ways to enhance the artificial intelligence of computers to include mimicking humanlike movements. That would be so wonderful. This means the next time, I shake hands with a robot I won't cringe. Now that we are getting robots to be more humanlike, maybe we can close the gap and make humans more robotlike. Hey wait a minute! I think it's done already. Well, at least in some circles and especially around the time of the elections. Luckily, we have a two-year respite from that, but...Alas! Not from the robotics in the new congress to lead up to 2008 election robotics. Let's see who can slap down whom not to let him get any brownie points, so the robots of either side can win with a landslide. Getting back to real robotics, imagine how well we would perform if our thinking were more robotlike. To start with, there would be no need for any New Year's resolutions. The resolutions would be fulfilled immediately. But I am not a robot and I can't imagine living with one. Besides, I think I'd drive a robot crazy. If I were to live with a robot, it would chide me in its cadenced, robotic voice, "You-are-not-living-your-life-in-an-organized-way. You-do-not-perform-your-duties-in-a-rational-sequence. Your-binary-functions-are-off-kilter. Remember-how-you-thought-a-desert-chef-invented-a-new-apple-cake-when-you-read-the-news-on-More-Apple-Tablet-Patents. You-are-a-disgrace-to-technology. Even-your-refrigerator-is overfilled-and-is-underperforming." Okay, little does the robot know that it is Mac that has the tablet, not Apple. How anyone swallows this is his business. I swallow enough pills in my old age and will not touch that one with a ten foot pole. And please, the robot should mind its own creaking metal joints and leave my refrigerator alone. Besides, that tablet is still a rumor as long as someone just imagines unsubstantiated images with a touch-screen-based user interface. And…an apple cake tastes much better than a swallowing an Apple tablet. Oh, poor robot! |
| If I am on the beach, the birds are flying up in the air just above me, and I look up to watch their underbellies, am I a peeping Tom? This worrisome notion comes to me when I look up at them, but I don't think the birds mind; although, they may feel uncomfortable with so much attention from me. Yesterday, we went to the beach and watched the ocean and the swimmers. The weather was excellent. Not too hot as it is around here most of the time and not too cold, just 82 degrees. The ocean had a few waves with foam riding over them, but no Venus rose from those waves, maybe because the sun was fully out. Fancy skins abhor the sun. The beach was a little crowded, which is okay by me, because I love to watch people just as much as I love to watch birds' underbellies. Seagulls, I noticed, tuck their legs in perfectly. Their underbellies are soft white and perfectly streamlined, and they are not afraid of people at all. Flocks and flocks of them were frolicking among the sun worshippers and swimmers. The pelicans look a bit clumsy; maybe because their shapes have more angles to them, but I admire the speed with which they suddenly dive into the water when they spot the fish. They are a bit cautious with people, but they are very well organized flyers. Their flocks keep their faultless formation, unlike the gulls that can fly sideways and straight up and down, but every which way they choose. The hawks fly too high up to get a good view of them with the bare eye, but then, they have class. They open their wings wide to just glide in the air, and one can only witness their perfect silhouettes. They say when there are so many birds around, the fish has to be plenty, which may also mean sharks are nearby. Luckily, there were no mishaps. Afterwards we drove a few miles south to have lunch at the Dolphin Bar, one of my favorite feeding spots, part of which is built right on the water. We sat on the deck in open air. Despite being a Saturday and prime time for snowbirds (the people who live in Northern USA, not real birds), the place was not too crowded. Think of me as the sand hoisting the shells, pulling down feet for a morsel of memory too soggy to discard. When the tide departs it will leave salt wounds on my skin until I shape-shift to a castle for unfinished dreams. |
| Carl Sandburg said: "Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep." No wonder I love onions. Maybe because I love life, weeping and all. I bought several different kinds of onions today. I keep a few inside a bin in the refrigerator to use last. The others stay in a basket. They'll be used in two weeks, if not sooner. Onion plants are hardy, being able to stand temperatures down to 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Life is hardy, too. I never understood from where to attack an onion. Some say leave the root; cut the stem. Others say leave the stem; cut the root. So, I do both. I attack the onion from both ends, just the way I do with life, you might say. Is that why I weep? One good advice for cholesterol watchers is to eat at least a half raw onion per day. This could make the HDL cholesterol (the good type) go up thirty percent. It is said that onions increase circulation, lower blood pressure, and prevent blood clotting. On the other hand, it is easy to say, "Eat a raw onion," but it is difficult to eat one, and if you do--that's if you can, you better use a really strong mouthwash. I can just imagine me with a perfect cholesterol count and the whole world running away from me. Scallions, Vidalias, and red onions can be tasty if chopped and added to salads. I like onions a little cooked, and I love onion breads and onion pies. I used to swoon over French onion soup but the big glob of cheese scares me nowadays, and without the cheese, the soup loses its personality. I wonder why this soup is called French since it was made popular by Stanislaus I, a King of Poland. Maybe it is in the same vein with the fact that French attempt to make civilized anything their own. I like to pick on the French often, although I love the French friends I have, but I think they won't mind me since they are so civilized, or will they? But I digress…as usual. (Bad habit of mine coming from all the free flow stuff I write.) I guess onions are as old as mankind, if not older. It is known that Ancient Egyptians grew them. Maybe onions are as old as life. Onions found their way to poetry. “Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.” And Shakespeare wrote that in All's Well that Ends Well. Life and onions should end well, also, whether we laugh or weep. If it is life that makes us weep and we scapegoat the onions, it is because life self produces, is cannibalistic, and consumes energy. As to its origin, life is unsettled between scientists and scripture interpreters, and anything unsettled is unknown, thus something to cry about whether it comes in layers like an onion or is thrown at you as a whole. |
| Hubby and I, some time ago, bought his and hers watches. Since I wear my watch all the time and he almost never wears his, his watch stayed intact. My watch, too, is alive and well, despite a few close calls because of me entering the shower while I wore it. My watchband, however, was not as lucky. Time and wrist took care of the leather, splitting it open. I tried to get the same watchband--even a similar one, but couldn't find any, part of it because I neither like nor can stand shopping for too long. After a disappointing ordeal, it occurred to me to try a metallic band I had kept from a deceased watch, (deceased because I swam with it for a long time, at least a long time for me). Anyhow, I had always liked its metallic gold-and-silver band, because it had never given me any trouble and I slipped it easily on or off my wrist. When I tried to put that band to my bandless watch, the pins didn't match. I was about to utter something I would bleep when I realized I could take out the pins from the broken band and insert them into the pipings of the metallic band and when I did that, voila! Everything fit. Now, I have a watch again; although, it doesn't quite fit with the his-and-hers idea, which is obsolete anyway, since hubby never wears his watch and constantly badgers me, asking me the time wherever we go. After all this, I came across a watchband site (yes, there is one!) on the net. The site features many fancy leather straps made by craftsmen in Austria. Each band was unique but the color and design of one of these straps looked just about the same as the band that broke away. I readied myself to pay $107 and almost ordered it, then I chickened out. The band was made of a crocodile skin. I would feel icky wearing that on my skin constantly. As much as I like the looks of it, I do not like the idea of snake skin or crocodile skin. No, I am not afraid of snakes. I rather like them... from afar. We are all conditioned by our circumstances, whether we admit to it or not. Maybe my disgust has to do with the snake, the apple, and Eve combination. Whatever it is, I just saved $107, and who can not want that? |
| We repeat ourselves and those who has hooked on to this fact use it against us. Sometimes we are fed something by the media or by those who control the media who need to control the public opinion. The instant we hear that, we repeat it. As soon as one person hears it from one radio station, from a TV channel, from a public speaker, or from any other person, he repeats the same idea to someone else, making it extend like a chain reaction. Then that idea, or even worse, that lie feels like a fact. With partisan, flame-throwing windbags, this is not so much of a problem, because they are obvious. What is scary is the not-so-obvious but what looks real or innocent, which can turn into an insidious epidemic. This has happened with every bad decision that has been taken. This happens with every mistaken vote we cast. This happens with everything, not just politics. This happens with medicine; this happens with law; this happens with the food we eat; this happens with the places we visit. The connotation of mindless repetition is infinite. I don't know why this happens so often. Maybe we enjoy looking like we are deep thinkers or maybe this is learned behavior. In any case, what is wrong with saying "I don't know" or "I don't know enough about that subject to form an opinion"? All this rant came about because a very cute old man stopped me on my way out of the public library yesterday. I had just borrowed a couple of books on finance and investing. This man, seeing what I had borrowed at the check-out desk, lectured me long and hard on how terrible the internet is and how big companies grab the little people's money, and how AARP is the best to help us etc., etc. Everything I have heard before was being parroted to me by this man. If he weren't so old and off-the-wall, I'd have told him off. Hubby was a few feet behind me. When he came near me, even he wouldn't stop the old man. Instead, my husband, too, listened to the man's lecture. The whole thing was hilarious. Do I blame the man? No. For one thing, I am not sure he was all there, if you know what I mean. Second, none of what he was saying was original. He was repeating the stuff he'd heard from others. Even drumbeaters find a rhythm of their own. Then, why can't we? Oh, while I'm at it, my favorite online or in-print line from some people who are repeaters: "Speaking of which, you heard it here first." Lol! Maybe, nothing's new under the sun.  |
| Everyday I see an organization on the internet I have never heard of before. I guess one thing the net is good for is synchronized coordination by any group of people pushing their agendas through self-righteous, forceful organizations. Each group and each organization wants to re-orient everyone else's world view, priorities, way of being, and personal values. These new kind of brainwashing tactics make me chuckle. What happened to "do unto others" and showing respect for different ideas and stances? Today's organization I discovered is SAW (Street Art Workers). Actually, I checked them out with a feeling of joy because I saw the word art, and as I love all arts, I thought I would be viewing something special. This is something special all right. At the first view, their angle seems honorable since they tackle issues of ecology and poverty in big cities and a few countries around the world. They also distribute posters so people hang these posters in big cities. Rather than try to explain what the posters are about, I am going to quote this: "Along with a strong critique of imperialism, the posters show how communities throughout the world are resisting corporate power for a more just and sustainable world." In other words, they want to break down the business world, so everyone in the world is poor and there is no hope for anyone. What a coincidence that this group is somehow linked with the Free World Alliance, United Liberation Front etc. Hmmm... United Liberation Front...Patty Hearst...Who'd have thunk! Then comes a pledge: " Allegiance is Pledged to the Universal Life Force, the Omni-Dimensional Continuum of Being, and the Creative Organizational Intelligence through which ALL is Created. In order to form a more perfectly Integrated Union of Mind, Body, and Soul; an Interwoven Tapestry of Brilliance." And… " Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number – - Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you – - Ye are many – they are few." Now, why do those fancy and sparkling words remind me of Hitler? Then, I wonder how many gallons of water is needed to wash one brain. |
| May this year turn out to be much better and happier than the years past for all of us. This year, I don't feel too enthusiastic for a new year's eve celebration; although we'll have a few people over, and momentarily, I'll go start on the meatballs. We'll probably watch on TV the ball dropping on top of One Times Square and count with the crowd 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 and kiss our mates, then everyone else in the room. We'll do this because the town I'm in is mostly composed of displaced New Yorkers. And in New York, thousands of people will be on the streets celebrating and making work for the Big Apple Police. Then, we'll ask each other about New Year's resolutions. "Did you make a New Year's resolution?" Millions of people do, but I am afraid of those things called resolutions. It's easy to make resolutions, but often very difficult to accomplish them. So I don't make them. Instead I try hard to do whatever I can do under any given circumstance. This way it is easier to blame the circumstance than me. Instead of making resolutions, I wish. I wish we had no wars, ever. I wish we all respected each other. I wish we didn't take the easiest way out of things but go for the best option. I wish we all got our priorities straight. And I wish I lost five or ten pounds. Why do we celebrate the new year or make resolutions, unless we are certain that we won't repeat our past mistakes and even top them off with new ones? Never mind what I just said. This is the cynical me talking; I think I am turning into an old prune. So another wish...I wish I become a sweeter prune. |
| In the residence inn we are staying, they say they are not washing towels and sheets everyday in order to save on water and detergent, because they are environmentalist-minded people. This is just fine by me, except why do the cleaning people come in and fill the dishwasher with detergent and water just to wash the coffee pot, causing noise pollution for my old ears? Lol! I think this is so funny! While I am nit-picking, let me talk about hotel soaps. If I have unwrapped the tiny, fancy cracker-sized soap package and used the soap only once, why do they throw it away? One thing I found out: No hotel cleaning service will throw out the soap I have carried from another hotel chain. Neither will they throw out the plastic or paper cups from another hotel chain or a fast-food place. The underlying premise must be: "We only throw away our stuff to thrash." This must be mechanical thinking induced environmentalism. In any case, it is better than nothing and I like the good will behind all this. Also, I am thankful for the one thing in this hotel that matters the most: The internet. Not only do they have wireless, but also they supply an ethernet connection. I can live with the noise of the dishwasher only washing one tiny and sometimes noteven-used coffee-pot, as long as I have connection to WC.  |
| I looked inside a book in a bookstore today, and it brought back memories. The book is called On the Edge (Something about Commodore) and it is about 1 1/2 inches thick. To 13 year-olds this is like Victorian History. To me, it reminds me of my first delighted confusion concerning computers. What we first bought for our children was not a Commodore, however. It was, if you don't count the Atari consoles, Texas Instruments TI-99/4A. Our older son kept saying that we had goofed and Commodore was the better one, because all his friends had it. I thought TI-99 was great because it could do math waves and I was sure my kids would ace calculus with that one. I was kinda right with the older kid, but the younger one wouldn't touch math with a ten foot pole. He's the verbal kind. Eventually we found a used Commodore, on which they played more games than they learned anything. The book made me remember the oldies like the Amigas, Adam, and all that. No, we didn't buy all those computers, but I just remember them, because at that time, I rejoiced from the heart. Maybe I'm a psychic of sorts who saw the future...my future with the unrequited love where computer technology is concerned. My husband thinks our first real computer was the IBM XT. After busting my brain over that one for several days, I learned how to write a program making a stick figure run across a page. While other computers had "basic" language, IBM called theirs "basica." Why? The reason is as foreign to me as why the latest operating system is called Vista. I guess they want to make the confused people like me even more confused by stuffing our brains with specific titles. We didn't get any modems for those things after a friend's son ran a $6000 phone bill. Some kids really got out of hand, in those days. (Ahem! I shouldn't talk.) When we moved from New york to Florida all those oldies went to a thrift shop. Ouch! Since I have gone computer crazy, we have newer versions now, the oldest of them being a 1997 Gateway with Windows 95 and a 4 GB hard disk. I put it in the guest bedroom to use as a word processor. How can I let go of an old love! The book has quite a history in it, parts of which are rather nasty. I may not understand from computers, but I can read history. 'On the Edge' promises to be a fun read. When we get back home, I'll get that book. |
| Someone told me they are going to publish an article in "Nature" this week called "Safe Handling of Nanotechnology." The article will be about theoretical risks of working with tiny particles. A nanometer is a billionth of a meter, btw. Little things do not scare me, except for nasty bacteria and deadly viruses. But that is not what they mean, and I am grateful for any technology that is ready for me to use, as long as there are people around who know more than me, so I don't mess up too much. Only forget about it when it comes to me working with--or is it "on"?--nanoscale. I have enough problems understanding any technology, but I can enjoy the results of the younger generation's work, especially when it comes to computers and internet. And if I wanted to be too safe, I wouldn't ever touch a computer...for mental health purposes to start with, but then, that lure has hooked me, especially after discovering Writing.com. When it comes to "real" nature, however, I like the tame kind. You'll never see me on a safari or inside a lion's cage. Heaven forbid that I come face to face with an alligator...although I live in Florida and more dangerous things in human form may lurk around any corner anywhere. So I guess, manmade nature suits me better, since I enjoy having my creature comforts.Thus, taking this opportunity, I'd like to give my thanks for the younger generations who, so unselfishly, put themselves at risk by fooling around with things delightful yet alien to me like computers, programming, and nanotechnology. |
| Whatever happens elsewhere, I feel happy in WC. Especially now that we have the falling snow on top of the page... I must be allergic to some pollen here in Tallahassee, probably something related to ragweed. The allergies and asthma are killing me. I can't even bend my head to read a book. We went and bought a tiny air cleaner today for our hotel room, but it makes so much noise! I'll have to turn it off at night before I go to bed. Unfortunately, we have to stay here until the end of December. If it weren't for the allergies, I'd have enjoyed Tallahassee a lot more, because I liked this city a lot. It has very tall trees, just like the ones we had when we lived in Long Island. Here in Tallahassee, in addition to the trees, we get the melting pot with the southerners and the Georgians. I love to hear their accents and they politely listen to mine. Where we live in South Florida, most anyone is from New York, and it has been as if we never moved south. Because of that, this has become a treat. Tallahassee borders Swanee River. On the roadside sign where it says Swanee River, they put the Swanee River song with notes, bars, key, scale and all. When we passed by it, I got a big kick out of it. I had never seen a musical road sign like that. Maybe because I, too, am a mutt, I like it when and where cultures intermingle and flow into each other. We would have such a wonderful world, if we didn't claim the upper hand on others and just enjoyed our differences. |
| I cooked Thanksgiving dinner in Marriott's hotelroom's tiny kitchenette. Ha ha! It was okay, but not quite like the times, say a couple of decades ago, where I used to go overboard with details when the kids were home and we had other guests at the table. Both kids and daughter-in-law called to say they were sad we weren't together this time. Oh well, they better get used to it. Hubby and I are not getting any younger. The good thing is, my son went to the house and found the product key for MS Word. So I finally have what I am used to writing in, although the freebie word processing program "openoffice.org" (Thanks to Kitti) was working quite well. The bad thing is, I am allergic to something in the air here and the asthma is starting to take hold. Unfortunately we're here another month. I am so loaded with medicines, I am afraid to write anything serious. Then, I want to write the novel that I started for Wannabe's challenge. So far so good, but with this head, I don't know where the novel will go. I am writing it as it comes and without a serious construction anyway. Writing with no outline or character sketches is something I have never done before. The story seems to have two main characters (Lol!), but I am sure by second draft, one of them will have to take the back seat, if there will be a second draft. So what? This won't be the only thing I'll leave half-done. I have several things that need attention. Come to think of it, everything I have written needs attention.  |
| Yet another reason to love Writing.com... Next time I reincarnate, I'm becoming a computer geek, and a hacker too (I mean it!), or else they can't make me come back. For this lifetime, I'm just too old to learn the stuff. The tragicomic sort of a computer drama since we set out on the road is still halfway over. This Sunday I got a new Gateway laptop from Tallahassee where we will be until 2007. The Geeks in the store "supposedly" cleared the new laptop and made it good to use. They must have cleared it too well. Because the office won't work and I have no word processing. I don't have time to go back and wait another half day. I have the CD for MS Word 2002 (for the old Dell) with me but not its product key. Its box with the product key is at home and the CD's are in a CD bag with me. A lesson here: Never separate the CD's from the box they came in, even if the box is flimsy and of cardboard. Aaaargh! Now I am doomed to write in note-pad or word pad. I found a freebie program on the net "Flyword" a flyby something, which seems to have been tweaked from MS Word 97. Not bad, but its counting tool counts the entire page. Then, when I cut and paste from some place else, it gets those weird oldie html signs instead of apostrophes and such. At least, I can get online well--knock on wood--and I can always write straight into an item on Writing.com. Like I always think, WdC is great, and everyday, I can find a new reason to love it. |
| After living for quite a long time, some days I still can't believe the cruelty I hear about. A school bus driver in Indian River County, FL, incited the students in the bus to taunt a handicapped boy practically ever since the school started. As the last straw, he put up posters on the school bus' windows naming him names and calling him gay. The boy may or may not have been gay but he was mentally handicapped. The other kids called him names and attacked him physically on the bus for quite some time and the bus driver joined in and led the "fun"! When the boy finally reacted and attacked someone who was taunting him, the bus driver reported the boy as attacking the other kids. The boy was suspended for a week. When the bus' video tape was examined by the school officials, they saw what really happened and the truth came out into the open. The boy is still suspended and the bus driver continues driving. They are looking into (!) bus driver's conduct. If found guilty, they might let go of him. Is that all? I am speechless. I think a criminal investigation should be in place for this man. As the adult and the driver in the bus, he should be the one to calm the kids and protect the innocent. I don't live in Indian County and I don't know what can be done. When it comes to the abuse of people who can't defend themselves, especially the mentally and the emotionally handicapped, I get really upset. |
| In RAOK's Thanksgiving contest, I requested we put a category that is not customary: stage or screen writing. True, a play on paper is only half alive, but I fear there aren't enough playwrights around or those who are around give up the craft because they can't break into the iron-clad system. I feel it would be "the more the merrier," if more people dared. Maybe nobody would make it into Broadway, but plays could written, performed for small audiences, and put into DVD's. I think there's a market for it and those who have entrepreneurish minds could pull this. Last week, my husband and I went to NYC for a few days. We both love Broadway, and each time we go, we squeeze in a play or two no matter how busy we get. This time, we found out that we had watched all that there was except two, in spite of the fact that since we now live in Florida, we can make it to NYC only three or four times a year at the most. Granted, it was the end of October and the season, but still there might have been plays we hadn't seen, but no. The reason for this is that once a production is a hit, it stays there for years. Come on...even the presidents can stay in office for two terms. Plus, most of the plays or musicals are re-hashes. To me the play's the thing and which director or actor interprets anything is secondary. If I have seen even the best of musicals like Cats or Phantom of the Opera once or twice, I won't want to see them again. I'll listen to the songs on a CD, but that is as far as it will go. And another thing. The price of the seats have become sky-high. A halfway decent seat in Chorus Line (something we had seen twice before and we dared to watch again) was $125 per person, the seats in the very front row were $300. If we had bought the front seats we'd have paid $600 plus tax. For that price, I could buy at least 20 well-produced DVD's. I think Broadway is eating itself out of existence or is becoming so unreachable that it will eventually fade into obscurity; however, Off-Broadway is doing well, at least artistically if not financially. I feel, writers and actors who have an interest in plays should follow their dreams through and create new markets for themselves. A play can be printed and sold as a book, too. Yes, I do read plays. At the moment, I am reading August Wilson's "The Piano Lesson." People like me miss good plays. |
| Every Halloween I get the door duty, and willingly. I love all those little scary tricksters, and one usually can tell their future from their present behavior. Tonight, a little one, not older than seven or eight, stuck his head in and looked around the house. "Nice house! I love your living room," he said. Then, he moved back and asked, "May I have another Hershey's Bar?" I handed him the candy and said, "I'll vote for you, anytime." These things are usually in the comic books or something, but the little ones never cease to amaze me. I love Halloween. Btw, I already voted yesterday. This year we have early voting and I am not going to miss a vote, since we may leave in a few days...or not. Oh, the suspense... |
| I was away about four days where I didn't (couldn't) go online. I missed WDC more than I missed home. Well, I'm back now, and although it looks like we'll hit the road again in a few days, I'm going to find a way to peek in. At least, I am going to take along my oldie laptop, which seems to resent me. Since the subject is hitting the road or the airways, I thought I'd write a tip or two for those who may be planning to board a flight. The last time we had flown was just a couple of days before the London police unearthed the liquid bomb threats. After that, I knew new items were added that one couldn't take to the plane in a carry-on. Also, there is a given list for items that are allowed or not allowed. Yet, a few things are left out that one does not know until one is at an airport at the screeners' counter. These new measures are not very clearly told, and I didn't see them online when I checked days before we boarded the plane. Obviously, neither did many of the other passengers. What the passengers are not told online or beforehand are: per each passenger with a carry-on luggage, only one quart size plastic bag of toiletries is allowed. Some people had several plastic bags full of toiletries, thinking as long as each item was under three ounces, it was allowed. Not so. Just one quart size plastic bag of toiletries per passenger. What some passengers did in front of me was that ones who didn't carry toiletries took the toiletries from those and let them go through as if they were their own. The joke was on the old question they used to ask us along the lines of: "Did you pack your own bag?" My toiletries (with their meager amount) were in the checked-in luggage, but I had two or three inhalers for asthma that I need to carry in my purse. Since all medications are allowed, I left them in a plastic bag inside my purse when I put the purse in the tray on the screeners' counter. This led to an extensive search. What they wanted people to do was to put all those plastic bags--out of the purses and carry-on bags--on the trays together with belts, shoes, jackets, money, jewelry, and what-have-you. I had to chuckle, because two days after our initial flight and after the screeners dressed and undressed everyone with many items scattered around, we read this in the papers: Newark Airport Screeners Fail Security Test October 27th, 2006. If I remember correctly, they let 20 or 22 plastic bombs get through. Since we had learned our lesson, our return flight was eventless, except for people who hadn't yet mastered the new rules. Being an optimist, I still think TSA is doing the best job it can do. Maybe we can't be safe 100%. Maybe if someone means to hurt us, he'll find a way. Maybe the money we spend is too much or not enough. Still, it is good to know people are doing this job in a caring way, and the officials are caring and very polite. I just think, the rules should be written clearly enough. Many passengers didn't know they shouldn't leave those items (medications and toiletries) in the purses and carry-ons and that only one plastic bag per passenger was allowed. As a result, more detailed searches on many people were needed, and also, among the passengers some wheeling dealing took place, which delayed many flights. |
| For once, I learned of something helpful. Not pleasant but may be helpful, God forbid, should such an emergency occur. And Yay! for Florida. FL Dept of Highway safety has a website where you write who you want contacted in case you are in a wreck. I hope all other states have similar measures. If not, their residents should make them do it. This reminds me, a few years back, of a friend who died in a wreck out of state. Everyone knew he was on vacation and nobody made much of his prolonged absence. His remains stayed in the morgue for 20 days, until someone searched for him. It may be nothing that terrible, but suppose a medical decision needs to be made. Hence, in case you’re ever in a bad wreck, rescue officials want to make it easier to reach your family or friends. They want you to tell them beforehand who to call in case you can’t later. This can be done quickly and easily on their web site … For Floridians: go to the Department of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles Web site at http://www.hsmv.state.fl.us/. Right on the homepage, there is an image of a phone and a link to enter “Emergency Contact Information.” Simply enter your driver’s license number and then put up to three phone numbers for each of two emergency contacts. According to Florida Highway Patrol, thousands of people have already done it. It takes about two minutes. |
| A big food news on cloning. The Food and Drug Administration is on the verge of endorsing the marketing of cloned animals for public consumption. It has been three years since the FDA initially suggested it might allow the sale of meat and milk from cloned livestock. Although there is still significant public opposition, with continuing efforts by groups and companies to forestall the decision, FDA action is expected by the end of the year, the Washington Post reports. The FDA’s position is bent on the new data showing that meat and milk from cloned animals do not pose specific risks to consumers. “Our evaluation is that the food from cloned animals is as safe as the food we eat every day,” said Stephen Sundlof, FDA chief of veterinary medicine. Is it really, if I might ask? We know that cloned animals are more prone to shorter lives and more sicknesses. With these negatives known, plus with so many unknown elements in the works, how can they be so sure? As if in this country we are dying of hunger and there's a shortage of livestock...Maybe we could all shed all those extra pounds and return to their old normal size the emergency room equipment, our furniture and bedding, the entryways and doors. In a country where people are excessively overweight, do we have to add to their medical woes? I am not a beef eater, and with due respect to Milkman here, but this should be enough of a reason for anyone to turn vegetarian. Even if you are a vegetarian, what about milk and milk products? This idea makes me turn nauseous. Look at the bright side. Maybe I'll end up as thin as a catwalk model. You wish! This month has been a busy month for me and it is getting busier. It may very well be that I won't be able to add to my blog for a while, especially with a trip lurking at the end of the month. |
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